Hiccup Haddock and the Sorcerer's Stone
by Opalay the Scauldron Rider
Summary: A parody of Harry Potter. All he knows is a miserable life with the Jorgensons, his horrible aunt and uncle, and their abominable son, Snotlout- a great big swollen spoiled bully. Hiccup's room is a tiny closet at the foot of the stairs. But his life changes when a mysterious letter changes his life
1. Characters

Hiccup Haddock Series

Hiccup Haddock-Harry Potter

Heather-Hermione Granger

Astrid Hofferson-Ginny Weasley

Fishlegs Ingerman-Ron Weasley

Snotlout Jorgenson-Dudley Dursley

Stocik Haddock-James Potter

Freda Jorgenson-Petunia Durlsey

Valka Haddock-Lily Potter

Silent Sven-Viktor Krum

Tuffnut Thortson-Fred Weasley

Ruffnut Thortson-George Weasley

Loki-Cedric Diggory

Savage-Peter Pettigrew

Trader Johan-Remus Lupin

Finn Hofferson-Arthur Weasley

Gobber-Sirius Black

Eret-Mr. Ollivander

Camicazi-Fleur Delacour

Spitelout Jorgenson-Vernon Durlsey

Gustav-Colin Creevey

Dagur-Bellatrix Lestrange

Mildew-Argus Filch

Thor-Albus Dumbeldore

Fungus the sheep-Mrs. Norris

Mulch-Hagrid

Drago Bludvist-Voldemort

Alvin-Severus Snape

Gothi-Minerva McGonagall

Bucket-Professor Binns

If you have an OCs that I could use in my story, please private message me with a name and their profile and I'll use them and I'll put your name down also for their use


	2. The Boy who lived

**I own nothing**

**I'm copy anything from the books but sticking to the story so J.K. Rowling please don't sue me**

**Oh none of the teens dragons are not in this story but I'm having Toothless as Hedwig and I have Gothi talking in this story**

Chapter One

The Boy who Lived

Mr. and Mrs. Jorgenson, of number four Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. They were the last people you'd expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious, because they just didn't hold with such nonsense

Mr. Jorgenson was the director of a firm called Grunnings, which made drills. He was a big, beefy man with hardly any neck, although he did have a very large mustache. Mrs Jorgenson was thin and blonde and had nearly twice the usual amount of neck, which came in very useful as she spent so much of her time craning over garden fences, spying on the neighbors. The Jorgensons had a small son named Snotlout and in their opinion there was no finer boy anywhere

The Jorgensons had everything they wanted, but they also had a secret, and their greatest fear was that somebody would discover it. They didn't think they could bear it if anyone found about the Haddocks. Mrs. Haddock was Mrs. Jorgenson's sister, but they hadn't met for several years; in fact, Mrs. Jorgenson pretended she didn't have a sister, because her sister and her good-for-nothing husband were as unJorgensonish as it was possible to be/ The Jorgensons shuddered to think what the neighbors would say if the Haddocks arrived in the street. The Jorgseons knew that the Haddocks had a small son, too, but they had never ever seen him. This boy was nother good reason for keeping the Haddocks away; they didn't want Snotlout mixing with a child like that.

When Mr. and Mrs. Dursley woke up on the dull, gray Tuesday our story starts, there was nothing about the cloudly sky outside to suggest that strange and mysterious things would soon be happening all over the country. Mr. Jorgenson hummed as he picked out his most boring tie for work, and Mrs. Jorgenson gossiped away happily as she wrestled a screaming Snotlout into his high chair

None of them noticed a large, tawny owl flutter past the window

At half past eight, Mr. Jorgenson picked up his briefcase, pecked Mrs. Jorgenson on the cheek, and tried to kiss Snotlout good-bye but missed, because Snotlout was now having a tantrum and throwing his cereal at the walls. "Little tyke" chortled Mr. Jorgenson as he left the house. He got into his car and back out of number four's drive

It was on the corner of the street that he noticed the first sign of something peculiar-a cat reading a map. For a second, Mr. Jorgenson didn't realize what he had seen-then he jerked his head around to look again. There was a tabby cat standing on the corner of Privet Drive, but there wasn't a map in sight. What could he haven been thinking of? It must have been a trick of the light. Mr. Jorgenson blinked and stared at the car. It stared back. As Mr. Jorgenson drove around the corner and up the road, he watched the cat in his mirror. It was now reading the sign that said Privet Drive-no, _looking_ at the sign; cats couldn't read maps _or_ signs. Mr. Jorgensons gave himself a little shake and put the cat out of his mind. As he drove toward town he thought of nothing except a large order of drills he was hoping to get that day

But on the edge of town, drills were driven out of his mind by something else. As he sat I the usual morning traffic jam, he couldn't help noticing that there seemed to be a lot of strangely dressed people about. People in cloaks. Mr. Jorgenson couldn't bear people who dressed in funny clothes-the getups you saw on young people! He supposed this was some stupid new fashion. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and his eyes fell on a huddle of these weirdos standing quite close by. They were whispering excitedly together. Mr. Jorgenson was enraged to see that a couple of them weren't young at all' why, that man had to be older that he was, and wearing an emerald-green cloak! The nerve of him! But then it struck Mr Jorgenson that this was probably some silly stunt-these people were obviously collecting for something...yes, that would be it. The traffic moved on and a few minutes later, Mr. Jorgenson arrived in the Grunnings parking lot, his mind back on drills

Mr. Jorgenson always at with his back to the window in his office on the ninth floor. If he hadn't, he might have found it harder to concentrate on drills that morning. _He_ didn't see the owls swooping past in broad daylight, though people down in the street did; they pointed and gazed open-mouthed as owl after owl sped overhead. Most of them had never seen an owl even at nighttime. Mr Jorgenson, however, had a perfectly normal, owl-free morning. He yelled at five different people. He made several important telephone calls and shouted a bit more. He was in a very good mood until lunchtime, when he thought he'd stretch his legs and walk across the road to buy himself a bun from the bakery.

He'd forgotten all about the people in cloaks until he passed a group of them next to the baker's. He eyes them angrily as he passed. He didn't know why, but they made him uneasy. This bunch were whispering excitedly, too, and he couldn't see a single collecting tin. It was on his way back past them, clutching a large doughnut in a bag, that he caught a few words of what they were saying

"The Haddocks, that's right, that's what I heard-"

"-yes, their son, Hiccup-"

Mr. Jorgenson stopped dead. Fear flooded him. He looked back at the whisperers as if he wanted to say something to them, but thought better of it.

He dashed back across the road, hurried up to his office, snapped at his secretary not to disturb him, seized his telephone, and had almost finished dialing his home number when he changed his mind. He put his receiver back down and stroked his mustache, thinking...no, he was being stupid. Haddock wasn't such an unusual name he was sure there were lots of people called Potter who had a son called Hiccup. Come to think of it. He wasn't even sure his nephew _was_ called Hiccup. He'd never even seen the boy. It might have been Harvey. Or Harold. There was no point in worrying Mrs. Jorgenson; she always got so upset at any mention of her sister. He didn't blame her-if he'd had a sister like that...but all the same, those people in cloaks...

He found it a lot harder to concentrate on drills that afternoon and when he left the building at five o'clock, he was still so worried that he walked straight into someone just outside the door

"sorry." he grunted, as the tiny old man stumbled and almost fell. It was a few seconds before Mr. Jorgenson realized that the man was wearing a violet cloak. He didn't seem at all upset at being almost knocked to the ground. On the contrary, his face split into a wide smile and he said in a squeaky voice that made passersby stare, "Don't be sorry, my dear sir, for nothing could upset me today! Rejoice, for You-Know-Who has gone at last! Even Muggles like yourself should be celebrating, this happy, happy day!"

And the old man hugged Mr. Jorgenson around the middle and walked off

Mr. Jorgenson stood rooted to the spot. He had been hugged by a complete stranger. He also thought he had been called a Muggle, whatever that was. He was rattled. He hurried to his car and set off for home, hoping he was imagining things, which he had never hoped before, because he didn't approve of imagination.

As he pulled into the driveway of number four, the first thing he saw-and it didn't improve his mood- was the tabby cat he'd spotted that morning. It was now sitting on his garden wall. He was sure it was the same one; it had the same markings around its eyes

"Shoo!" said Mr Jorgenson loudly

The car didn't move. It just gave him a stern look. Was this normal cat behavior? Mr. Jorgenson wondered. Trying to pull himself together, he let himself into the house. He was still determined not to mention anything to his wife

Mrs. Jorgenson had had a nice, normal day. She told him over dinner all about Mrs. Next Door's problems with her daughter and how Snotlout had learned a new word (Won't!"). Mr. Jorgenson tried to act normally. When Snotlout had been put to bed, he went into the living room in time to catch the last report on the evening new:

"and finally, bird-watchers everywhere have reported that the nation's owls have been behaving very unusually today. Although owls normally hunt at night and are hardly ever seen in daylight, there have been hundred of sightings of these birds flying in every direction since sunrise. Experts are unable to explain why the owls have sudden;y changed their sleeping pattern." The newscaster allowed himself a grin. "Most mysterious. And now, over to Jim McGuffin with the weather. Going to be any more showers of owls tonight, Jim?"

"well, Ted." said the weatherman, "I don't know about that, but it's not only the owls that haven been acting oddly today. Viewers as far apart as Kent, Yorkshire, and Dundee have been phoning in to tell me that instead of the rain I promised yesterday, they've had a downpour of shooting stars! Perhaps have been celebrating Bonfire Night early-it's not until next week, folks! But I can promise a wet night tonight."

Mr. Jorgenson sat frozen in his armchair. Shooting stars all over Britain? Owls flying by daylight Mysterious people in cloaks all over the place? And a whisper, a whisper about the Haddocks...

Mrs. Jorgenson came into the living room carrying two cups of tea. It was no good. He'd have to say something to her. He cleared his throat nervously. "Er-Freda, dear-you haven't heard from your sister lately, have you?"

As he had expected, Mrs. Jorgenson looked shocked and angry. After all, they normally pretended she didn't have a sister

"No." she said sharply. "Why?"

"Funny stuff on the news." Mr. Jorgenson mumbled. "Owls...shooting stars...and there were a lot funny-looking people I town today..."

"_So?"_snapped Mrs. Jorgenson

"well, I just thought...maybe...it was something to do with...you know..._her_ crowd."

Mrs. Jorgenson sipped her tea through pursed lips. Mr. Jorgenson wondered whether he dared tell her he'd heard the name "Haddock." He decided he didn't care. Instead he said, as casually as he could, "Their son-he'd be about Snotlout's age now, wouldn't he?"

"I suppose so." said Mrs Jorgenson stiffly

"what's his name again? Howard, isn't it?"

"Hiccup. Nasty, common name, if you ask me."

"Oh yes." said Mr. Jorgenson, his heart sinking horribly. "Yes, I quite agree."

He didn't say another word on the subject as they went upstairs to bed bed. While Mrs. Jorgenson was in the bathroom, Mr. Jorgenson crept to the bedroom window and peered down into the front garden. The cat was still there. It was staring down Privet Drive as though it were waiting for something

Was he imaging things? Could all this have anything to do with the Haddocks? If it did ….if it got out that they were related to a pair of -well, he didn't think he could bear it

The Jorgensons got into bed. Mrs. Jorgenson fell asleep quickly but Mr. Jorgenson lay awake, turning it all over in his mind. His last, comforting thought before he fell asleep was that even if the Haddocks _were_ involved, there was no reason for them to come near him and Mrs. Jorgenson. The Haddocks knew very well what he and Freda thought about them and their kind...He couldn't see how he and Freda could mixed up in anything that might be going on...he yawned and turned over-it couldn't affect _them_...

How very wrong he was.

Mr. Jorgenson might have been drifting into an uneasy sleep, but the cat on the wall outside was showing no sign on sleepiness. It was sitting as still as a statue, its eyes fixed unblinkingly on the far corner of Privet Drive. It didn't so much as quiver when a car door slammed on the next street, nor when two owls swooped overhead. In fact. it was nearly midnight before the cat moved at all.

A man appeared on the corner the cat had been watching, appeared so suddenly and silently you'd have thought he'd just popped out of the ground. The cat's tail twitched and its eyes narrowed

Nothing like this man had ever been seen on Privet Drive. He was tall thin, and very old, judging by the silver of his hair and beard, which were both long enough to tuck into his belt. He was wearing long robes, a purple cloak that swept the ground, and high-heeled, buckled boots. His blue eyes were light, bright, and sparking behind half moon spectacles and his nose was very long and crooked, as though it had been broken at least twice. This man's name was Odin Thor

Odin Thor didn't seem to realize that he had just arrived in a street where everything from his name to his boots was unwelcome. He was busy rummaging in his cloak, looking for something. But he did seem to realize he was being watched, becuase he looked up suddenly at the cat, which was still staring at him from the other end of the street. For some reason, the sight of the cat seemed to amuse him. He chuckled and muttered. "I should have known."

He found what he was looking for in his inside pocket. It seemed to be a silver cigarette lughter. He flicked it open, held it up in the air, and clicked it. The nearest street lamp went out with a little pop. He clicked it again-the near lamp flickered into darkness. Twelve times he clicked the Put-Outer, until the only lights left on the whole street were two tiny pinpricks in the distance, which were the eyes of the cat watching him. If anyone looked out of their windows now, even beady-eyed Mrs. Jorgenson, they wouldn't be able to see anything that was happening down on the pavement. Thor slipped the Put-Outer back inside his cloak and set off down the street toward number four, where he sat down on the wall next to the cat. He didn't look at it, but after a moment he spoke to it.

"Fancy seeing you here, Professor Gothi."

He turned to smile at the tabby, but it had gone. Instead he was smiling at a rather severe-looking woman who was wearing square glasses exactly the shape of the marking the cat had had around its eyes. She, too, was wearing a cloak, an emerald one. Her gray hair was drawn into a tight bun. She looked distinctly ruffled.

"How did you know it was me?" she asked

"My dear Professor, I've never seen a cat sit so stiffly."

"you'd be stiff if you'd been sitting on a brick wall all day." said Professor Gothi

"All day? When you could have been celebrating? I must have passed a dozen feasts and parties on my way here."

Professor Gothi sniffed angrily

"oh yes, everyone's celebrating, all right." said said impatinetly. "You'd think they'd be a bit more careful, but no-even the Muggles have noticed something's going on. It was on their news." She jerked her head back at the Jorgenson's dark living-room window. "I heard it. Flocks of owls...shooting stars...Well, they're not completely stupid. They were bound to notice something. Shooting stars down in Kent-I'll bet that was Dedalus Diggle. He never had much sense."

"You can't blame them." said Thor gently. "We've had precious little to celebrate for eleven years."

"I know that." said Professor Gothi irritable. "But's that's no reason to lose our heads. People are being downright careless, out on the streets in broad daylight, not even dressed in Muggle clothes, swapping rumors."

She threw a sharp, sideays glance at Thor here, as though hoping he was going to tell her something, but he didn't, so she went on. "A fine thing it would be if, on the very day You-Know-Who seems to have disappeared at last, the Muggles found out about us all. I suppose he really _has_ gone, Thor?"

"It certainly seems so," said Thor. "We have much to be thankful for. Would you care for a lemon drop?"

"A _what_?"

"A lemon drop. They're a kind of Muggle sweet I'm rather fond of."

"No, thank you," said Professor Gothi coldly, as though she didn't think this was the moment for lemon drops. "As I say, even if You-Know-Who has gone -"

"My dear Professor, surely a sensible person like yourself can call him by his name? All this 'You- Know-Who' nonsense - for eleven years I have been trying to persuade people to call him by his proper name: Drago." Professor Gothi flinched, but Thor, who was unsticking two lemon drops, seemed not to notice. "It all gets so confusing if we keep saying 'You-Know-Who.' I have never seen any reason to be frightened of saying Drago's name.

"I know you haven 't, said Professor Gothi, sounding half exasperated, half admiring. "But you're different. Everyone knows you're the only one You-Know- oh, all right, Drago, was frightened of."

"You flatter me," said Thor calmly. "Drago had powers I will never have."

"Only because you're too - well - noble to use them."

"It's lucky it's dark. I haven't blushed so much since Madam Pomfrey told me she liked my new earmuffs."

Professor Gothi shot a sharp look at Thor and said, "The owls are nothing next to the rumors that are flying around. You know what everyone's saying? About why he's disappeared? About what finally stopped him?"

It seemed that Professor Gothi had reached the point she was most anxious to discuss, the real reason she had been waiting on a cold, hard wall all day, for neither as a cat nor as a woman had she fixed Thor with such a piercing stare as she did now. It was plain that whatever "everyone" was saying, she was not going to believe it until Thor told her it was true. Thor, however, was choosing another lemon drop and did not answer.

"What they're saying," she pressed on, "is that last night Drago turned up in Godric's Hollow. He went to find the Haddocks. The rumor is that Valka and Stoick Haddock are - are - that they're - dead. "

Thor bowed his head. Professor Gothi gasped.

"Valka and Stoick... I can't believe it... I didn't want to believe it...Oh, Odin..."

Thor reached out and patted her on the shoulder. "I know... Iknow..." he said heavily.

Professor Gothi's voice trembled as she went on. "That's not all. They're saying he tried to kill the Haddock's son, Hiccup. But - he couldn't. He couldn't kill that little boy. No one knows why, or how, but they're saying that when he couldn't kill Hiccup Haddock, Drago's power somehow broke - and that's why he's gone.

Thor nodded glumly.

"It's - it's true?" faltered Professor Gothi. "After all he's done... all the people he's killed... he couldn't kill a little boy? It's just astounding... of all the things to stop him... but how in the name of heaven did Hiccup survive?"

"We can only guess," said Gothi. "We may never know."

Professor Gothi pulled out a lace handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes beneath her spectacles. Thor gave a great sniff as he took a golden watch from his pocket and examined it. It was a very odd watch. It had twelve hands but no numbers; instead, little planets were moving around the edge. It must have made sense to Thor, though, because he put it back in his pocket and said, "Mulch's late. I suppose it was he who told you I'd be here, by the way?"

"Yes," said Professor Gothi. "And I don't suppose you're going to tell me why you're here, of all places?"

"I've come to bring Hiccup to his aunt and uncle. They're the only family he has left now."

"You don't mean - you can't mean the people who live here?" cried Professor Gothi, jumping to her feet and pointing at number four. "Thor - you can't. I've been watching them all day. You couldn't find two people who are less like us. And they've got this son - I saw him kicking his mother all the way up the street, screaming for sweets. Hiccup Haddock come and live here!"

"It's the best place for him," said Thor firmly. "His aunt and uncle will be able to explain everything to him when he's older. I've written them a letter."

"A letter?" repeated Professor Gothi faintly, sitting back down on the wall. "Really, Thor, you think you can explain all this in a letter? These people will never understand him! He'll be famous - a legend - I wouldn't be surprised if today was known as Hiccup Haddock day in the future - there will be books written about Harry - every child in our world will know his name!"

"Exactly," said Thor, looking very seriously over the top of his half-moon glasses. "It would be enough to turn any boy's head. Famous before he can walk and talk! Famous for something he won't even remember! CarA you see how much better off he'll be, growing up away from all that until he's ready to take it?"

Professor Gothi opened her mouth, changed her mind, swallowed, and then said, "Yes - yes, you're right, of course. But how is the boy getting here, Thor?" She eyed his cloak suddenly as though she thought he might be hiding Hiccup underneath it.

"Mulch's bringing him."

"You think it - wise - to trust Mulch with something as important as this?"

"I would trust Mulch with my life," said Thor.

"I'm not saying his heart isn't in the right place," said Professor Gothi grudgingly, "but you can't pretend he's not careless. He does tend to - what was that?"

A low rumbling sound had broken the silence around them. It grew steadily louder as they looked up and down the street for some sign of a headlight; it swelled to a roar as they both looked up at the sky - and a huge motorcycle fell out of the air and landed on the road in front of them.

If the motorcycle was huge, it was nothing to the man sitting astride it. He was almost twice as tall as a normal man and at least five times as wide. He looked simply too big to be allowed, and so wild - long tangles of bushy black hair and beard hid most of his face, he had hands the size of trash can lids, and his feet in their leather boots were like baby dolphins. In his vast, muscular arms he was holding a bundle of blankets.

"Mulch," said Thor, sounding relieved. "At last. And where did you get that motorcycle?"

"Borrowed it, Professor Thor, sit," said the giant, climbing carefully off the motorcycle as he spoke. "Young Eret lent it to me. I've got him, sir."

"No problems, were there?"

"No, sir - house was almost destroyed, but I got him out all right before the Muggles started swarmin' around. He fell asleep as we was flyin' over Bristol."

Thor and Professor Gothi bent forward over the bundle of blankets. Inside, just visible, was a baby boy, fast asleep. Under a tuft of jet-black hair over his forehead they could see a curiously shaped cut, like a bolt of lightning.

"Is that where -?" whispered Professor Gothi.

"Yes," said Thor. "He'll have that scar forever."

"Couldn't you do something about it, Thor?"

"Even if I could, I wouldn't. Scars can come in handy. I have one myself above my left knee that is a perfect map of the London Underground. Well- give him here, Mulch - we'd better get this over with."

Thor took Hiccup in his arms and turned toward the Jorgenson's house.

"Could I - could I say good-bye to him, sir?" asked Mulch. He bent his great, shaggy head over Harry and gave him what must have been a very scratchy, whiskery kiss. Then, suddenly, Mulch let out a howl like a wounded dog.

"Shhh!" hissed Professor Gothi, "you'll wake the Muggles!"

"S-s-sorry," sobbed Mulch, taking out a large, spotted handkerchief and burying his face in it. "But I c-c-can't stand it - Valka an' Stoick dead- an' poor little Hiccup off ter live with Muggles -"

"Yes, yes, it's all very sad, but get a grip on yourself, Mulch, or we'll be found," Professor Gothi whispered, patting Hagrid gingerly on the arm as Dumbledore stepped over the low garden wall and walked to the front door. He laid Hiccup gently on the doorstep, took a letter out of his cloak, tucked it inside Hiccup's blankets, and then came back to the other two. For a full minute the three of them stood and looked at the little bundle; Mulch's shoulders shook, Professor Gothi blinked furiously, and the twinkling light that usually shone from Thor's eyes seemed to have gone out.

"Well," said Thor finally, "that's that. We've no business staying here. We may as well go and join the celebrations."

"Yeah," said Mulch in a very muffled voice, "I'll be takin' Eret his bike back. G'night, Professor Gothi - Professor Thor, sir."

Wiping his streaming eyes on his jacket sleeve, Mulch swung himself onto the motorcycle and kicked the engine into life; with a roar it rose into the air and off into the night.

"I shall see you soon, I expect, Professor Gothi," said Thor, nodding to her. Professor Thor blew her nose in reply.

Thor turned and walked back down the street. On the corner he stopped and took out the silver Put-Outer. He clicked it once, and twelve balls of light sped back to their street lamps so that Privet Drive glowed suddenly orange and he could make out a tabby cat slinking around the corner at the other end of the street. He could just see the bundle of blankets on the step of number four.

"Good luck, Hiccup," he murmured. He turned on his heel and with a swish of his cloak, he was gone.

A breeze ruffled the neat hedges of Privet Drive, which lay silent and tidy under the inky sky, the very last place you would expect astonishing things to happen. Hiccup Haddock rolled over inside his blankets without waking up. One small hand closed on the letter beside him and he slept on, not knowing he was special, not knowing he was famous, not knowing he would be woken in a few hours' time by Mrs. Jorgenson's scream as she opened the front door to put out the milk bottles, nor that he would spend the next few weeks being prodded and pinched by his cousin Snotlout... He couldn't know that at this very moment, people meeting in secret all over the country were holding up their glasses and saying in hushed voices: "To Hiccup Haddock - the boy who lived!"


	3. Author's Note

**Author's Note**

**Does anyone want Hiccup to wear glasses like Harry or not?**

**Give me an answer so when I can start the next chapter**


	4. The Vanishing Glass

CHAPTER TWO

THE VANISHING GLASS

Nearly ten years had passed since the Jorgenson had woken up to find their nephew on the front step, but Privet Drive had hardly changed at all. The sun rose on the same tidy front gardens and lit up the brass number four on the Jorgenson's front door; it crept into their living room, which was almost exactly the same as it had been on the night when Mr. Jorgenson had seen that fateful news report about the owls. Only the photographs on the mantelpiece really showed how much time had passed. Ten years ago, there had been lots of pictures of what looked like a large pink beach ball wearing different-colored bonnets - but Snotlout Jorgenson was no longer a baby, and now the photographs showed a large blond boy riding his first bicycle, on a carousel at the fair, playing a computer game with his father, being hugged and kissed by his mother. The room held no sign at all that another boy lived in the house, too.

Yet Hiccup Haddock was still there, asleep at the moment, but not for long. His Aunt Freda was awake and it was her shrill voice that made the first noise of the day.

"Up! Get up! Now!"

Hiccup woke with a start. His aunt rapped on the door again.

"Up!" she screeched. Hiccup heard her walking toward the kitchen and then the sound of the frying pan being put on the stove. He rolled onto his back and tried to remember the dream he had been having. It had been a good one. There had been a flying motorcycle in it. He had a funny feeling he'd had the same dream before.

His aunt was back outside the door.

"Are you up yet?" she demanded.

"Nearly," said Hiccup.

"Well, get a move on, I want you to look after the bacon. And don't you dare let it burn, I want everything perfect on Snotlout's birthday."

Hiccup groaned.

"What did you say?" his aunt snapped through the door.

"Nothing, nothing..."

Snotlout's birthday - how could he have forgotten? Hiccup got slowly out of bed and started looking for socks. He found a pair under his bed and, after pulling a spider off one of them, put them on. Hiccup was used to spiders, because the cupboard under the stairs was full of them, and that was where he slept.

When he was dressed he went down the hall into the kitchen. The table was almost hidden beneath all Snotlout's birthday presents. It looked as though Snotlout had gotten the new computer he wanted, not to mention the second television and the racing bike. Exactly why Snotlout wanted a racing bike was a mystery to Hiccup, as Snotlout was very fat and hated exercise - unless of course it involved punching somebody. Snotlout's favorite punching bag was Hiccup, but he couldn't often catch him. Hiccup didn't look it, but he was very fast.

Perhaps it had something to do with living in a dark cupboard, but Hiccup had always been small and skinny for his age. He looked even smaller and skinnier than he really was because all he had to wear were old clothes of Snotlout's, and Snotlout was about four times bigger than he was. Hiccup had a thin face, knobbly knees, brown hair, and bright green eyes. He wore round glasses held together with a lot of Scotch tape because of all the times Snotlout had punched him on the nose. The only thing Hiccup liked about his own appearance was a very thin scar on his forehead that was shaped like a bolt of lightning. He had had it as long as he could remember, and the first question he could ever remember asking his Aunt Freda was how he had gotten it.

"In the car crash when your parents died," she had said. "And don't ask questions."

Don't ask questions - that was the first rule for a quiet life with the Jorgenson.

Uncle Spitelout entered the kitchen as Hiccup was turning over the bacon.

"Comb your hair!" he barked, by way of a morning greeting.

About once a week, Uncle Hiccup looked over the top of his newspaper and shouted that Hiccup needed a haircut. Harry must have had more haircuts than the rest of the boys in his class put together, but it made no difference, his hair simply grew that way -all over the place.

Hiccup was frying eggs by the time Dudley arrived in the kitchen with his mother. Snotlout looked a lot like Uncle Spitelout. He had a large pink face, not much neck, small, watery blue eyes, and thick blond hair that lay smoothly on his thick, fat head. Aunt Freda often said that Snotlout looked like a baby angel - Hiccup often said that Snotlout looked like a pig in a wig.

Hiccup put the plates of egg and bacon on the table, which was difficult as there wasn't much room. Snotlout, meanwhile, was counting his presents. His face fell.

"Thirty-six," he said, looking up at his mother and father. "That's two less than last year."

"Darling, you haven't counted Auntie Marge's present, see, it's here under this big one from Mommy and Daddy."

"All right, thirty-seven then," said Snotlout, going red in the face. Hiccup, who could see a huge Snotlout tantrum coming on, began wolfing down his bacon as fast as possible in case Snotlout turned the table over.

Aunt Freda obviously scented danger, too, because she said quickly, "And we'll buy you another two presents while we're out today. How's that, popkin? Two more presents. Is that all right''

Snotlout thought for a moment. It looked like hard work. Finally he said slowly, "So I'll have thirty ... thirty..."

"Thirty-nine, sweetums," said Aunt Freda.

"Oh." Snotlout sat down heavily and grabbed the nearest parcel. "All right then."

Uncle Spitelout chuckled. "Little tyke wants his money's worth, just like his father. 'Atta boy, Snotlout!" He ruffled Snotlout's hair.

At that moment the telephone rang and Aunt Freda went to answer it while Hiccup and Uncle Spitelout watched Snotlout unwrap the racing bike, a video camera, a remote control airplane, sixteen new computer games, and a VCR. He was ripping the paper off a gold wristwatch when Aunt Freda came back from the telephone looking both angry and worried.

"Bad news, Spitelout," she said. "Mrs. Figg's broken her leg. She can't take him." She jerked her head in Hiccup's direction.

Snotlout's mouth fell open in horror, but Hiccup's heart gave a leap. Every year on Snotlout's birthday, his parents took him and a friend out for the day, to adventure parks, hamburger restaurants, or the movies. Every year, Hiccup was left behind with Mrs. Figg, a mad old lady who lived two streets away. Hiccup hated it there. The whole house smelled of cabbage and Mrs. Figg made him look at photographs of all the cats she'd ever owned.

"Now what?" said Aunt Freda, looking furiously at Hiccup as though he'd planned this. Hiccup knew he ought to feel sorry that Mrs. Figg had broken her leg, but it wasn't easy when he reminded himself it would be a whole year before he had to look at Tibbles, Snowy, Mr. Paws, and Tufty again.

"We could phone Marge," Uncle Spitelout suggested.

"Don't be silly, Spitelout, she hates the boy."

The Jorgensons often spoke about Hiccup like this, as though he wasn't there - or rather, as though he was something very nasty that couldn't understand them, like a slug.

"What about what's-her-name, your friend - Yvonne?"

"On vacation in Majorca," snapped Aunt Freda.

"You could just leave me here," Harry put in hopefully (he'd be able to watch what he wanted on television for a change and maybe even have a go on Snotlout's computer).

Aunt Freda looked as though she'd just swallowed a lemon.

"And come back and find the house in ruins?" she snarled.

"I won't blow up the house," said Hiccup, but they weren't listening.

"I suppose we could take him to the zoo," said Aunt Freda slowly, "...and leave him in the car..."

"That car's new, he's not sitting in it alone..."

Snotlout began to cry loudly. In fact, he wasn't really crying - it had been years since he'd really cried - but he knew that if he screwed up his face and wailed, his mother would give him anything he wanted.

"Snotty Snottydums, don't cry, Mummy won't let him spoil your special day!" she cried, flinging her arms around him.

"I... don't... want... him... t-t-to come!" Snotlout yelled between huge, pretend sobs. "He always sp- spoils everything!" He shot Hiccup a nasty grin through the gap in his mother's arms.

Just then, the doorbell rang - "Oh, good Lord, they're here!" said Aunt Freda frantically - and a moment later, Snotlout's best friend, Piers Polkiss, walked in with his mother. Piers was a scrawny boy with a face like a rat. He was usually the one who held people's arms behind their backs while Snotlout hit them. Snotlout stopped pretending to cry at once.

Half an hour later, Hiccup, who couldn't believe his luck, was sitting in the back of the Jorgenson' car with Piers and Dudley, on the way to the zoo for the first time in his life. His aunt and uncle hadn't been able to think of anything else to do with him, but before they'd left, Uncle Spitelout had taken Hiccup aside.

"I'm warning you," he had said, putting his large purple face right up close to Hiccup's, "I'm warning you now, boy - any funny business, anything at all - and you'll be in that cupboard from now until Christmas."

"I'm not going to do anything," said Hiccup, "honestly..

But Uncle Spitelout didn't believe him. No one ever did.

The problem was, strange things often happened around Hiccup and it was just no good telling the Dursleys he didn't make them happen.

Once, Aunt Freda, tired of Harry coming back from the barbers looking as though he hadn't been at all, had taken a pair of kitchen scissors and cut his hair so short he was almost bald except for his bangs, which she left "to hide that horrible scar." Snotlout had laughed himself silly at Hiccup, who spent a sleepless night imagining school the next day, where he was already laughed at for his baggy clothes and taped glasses. Next morning, however, he had gotten up to find his hair exactly as it had been before Aunt Freda had sheared it off He had been given a week in his cupboard for this, even though he had tried to explain that he couldn't explain how it had grown back so quickly.

Another time, Aunt Freda had been trying to force him into a revolting old sweater of Snotlout's (brown with orange puff balls) - The harder she tried to pull it over his head, the smaller it seemed to become, until finally it might have fitted a hand puppet, but certainly wouldn't fit Hiccup. Aunt Freda had decided it must have shrunk in the wash and, to his great relief, Hiccup wasn't punished.

On the other hand, he'd gotten into terrible trouble for being found on the roof of the school kitchens. Snotlout's gang had been chasing him as usual when, as much to Hiccup's surprise as anyone else's, there he was sitting on the chimney. The Jorgensons had received a very angry letter from Hiccup's headmistress telling them Hiccup had been climbing school buildings. But all he'd tried to do (as he shouted at Uncle Sputelout through the locked door of his cupboard) was jump behind the big trash cans outside the kitchen doors. Hiccup supposed that the wind must have caught him in mid- jump.

But today, nothing was going to go wrong. It was even worth being with Snotlout and Piers to be spending the day somewhere that wasn't school, his cupboard, or Mrs. Figg's cabbage-smelling living room.

While he drove, Uncle Spitelout complained to Aunt Freda. He liked to complain about things: people at work, Hiccup, the council, Hiccup, the bank, and Hiccup were just a few of his favorite subjects. This morning, it was motorcycles.

"... roaring along like maniacs, the young hoodlums," he said, as a motorcycle overtook them.

I had a dream about a motorcycle," said Hiccup, remembering suddenly. "It was flying."

Uncle Spitelout nearly crashed into the car in front. He turned right around in his seat and yelled at Hiccup, his face like a gigantic beet with a mustache: "MOTORCYCLES DON'T FLY!"

Snotlout and Piers sniggered.

I know they don't," said Hiccup. "It was only a dream."

But he wished he hadn't said anything. If there was one thing the Jorgensons hated even more than his asking questions, it was his talking about anything acting in a way it shouldn't, no matter if it was in a dream or even a cartoon - they seemed to think he might get dangerous ideas.

It was a very sunny Saturday and the zoo was crowded with families. The Jorgensons bought Snotlout and Piers large chocolate ice creams at the entrance and then, because the smiling lady in the van had asked Hiccup what he wanted before they could hurry him away, they bought him a cheap lemon ice pop. It wasn't bad, either, Hiccup thought, licking it as they watched a gorilla scratching its head who looked remarkably like Snotlout, except that it wasn't blond.

Hiccup had the best morning he'd had in a long time. He was careful to walk a little way apart from the Jorgensons so that Spitelout and Piers, who were starting to get bored with the animals by lunchtime, wouldn't fall back on their favorite hobby of hitting him. They ate in the zoo restaurant, and when Snotlout had a tantrum because his knickerbocker glory didn't have enough ice cream on top, Uncle Spitelout bought him another one and Hiccup was allowed to finish the first.

Hiccup felt, afterward, that he should have known it was all too good to last.

After lunch they went to the reptile house. It was cool and dark in there, with lit windows all along the walls. Behind the glass, all sorts of lizards and snakes were crawling and slithering over bits of wood and stone. Snotlout and Piers wanted to see huge, poisonous cobras and thick, man-crushing pythons. Snoutlout quickly found the largest snake in the place. It could have wrapped its body twice around Uncle Spitelout's car and crushed it into a trash can - but at the moment it didn't look in the mood. In fact, it was fast asleep.

Snotlout stood with his nose pressed against the glass, staring at the glistening brown coils.

"Make it move," he whined at his father. Uncle Spitelout tapped on the glass, but the snake didn't budge.

"Do it again," Snotlout ordered. Uncle Spitelout rapped the glass smartly with his knuckles, but the snake just snoozed on.

"This is boring," Snotlout moaned. He shuffled away.

Hiccup moved in front of the tank and looked intently at the snake. He wouldn't have been surprised if it had died of boredom itself - no company except stupid people drumming their fingers on the glass trying to disturb it all day long. It was worse than having a cupboard as a bedroom, where the only visitor was Aunt Freda hammering on the door to wake you up; at least he got to visit the rest of the house.

The snake suddenly opened its beady eyes. Slowly, very slowly, it raised its head until its eyes were on a level with Hiccup's.

It winked.

Hiccup stared. Then he looked quickly around to see if anyone was watching. They weren't. He looked back at the snake and winked, too. The snake jerked its head toward Uncle Spitelout and Snotlout, then raised its eyes to the ceiling. It gave Hiccup a look that said quite plainly:

"I get that all the time.

"I know," Hiccup murmured through the glass, though he wasn't sure the snake could hear him. "It must be really annoying."

The snake nodded vigorously.

"Where do you come from, anyway?" Hiccup asked.

The snake jabbed its tail at a little sign next to the glass. Hiccup peered at it.

Boa Constrictor, Brazil.

"Was it nice there?"

The boa constrictor jabbed its tail at the sign again and Hiccup read on: This specimen was bred in the zoo. "Oh, I see - so you've never been to Brazil?"

As the snake shook its head, a deafening shout behind Hiccup made both of them jump.

"SNOTLOUT! MR. JORGENSON! COME AND LOOK AT THIS SNAKE! YOU WON'T BELIEVE WHAT IT'S DOING!"

Snotlout came waddling toward them as fast as he could.

"Out of the way, you," he said, punching Hiccup in the ribs. Caught by surprise, Hiccup fell hard on the concrete floor. What came next happened so fast no one saw how it happened - one second, Piers and Snotlout were leaning right up close to the glass, the next, they had leapt back with howls of horror.

Hiccup sat up and gasped; the glass front of the boa constrictor's tank had vanished. The great snake was uncoiling itself rapidly, slithering out onto the floor. People throughout the reptile house screamed and started running for the exits.

As the snake slid swiftly past him, Hiccup could have sworn a low, hissing voice said, "Brazil, here I come... Thanksss, amigo."

The keeper of the reptile house was in shock.

"But the glass," he kept saying, "where did the glass go?"

The zoo director himself made Aunt Freda a cup of strong, sweet tea while he apologized over and over again. Piers and Snotlout could only gibber. As far as Hiccup had seen, the snake hadn't done anything except snap playfully at their heels as it passed, but by the time they were all back in Uncle Spitelout's car, Snotlout was telling them how it had nearly bitten off his leg, while Piers was swearing it had tried to squeeze him to death. But worst of all, for Hiccup at least, was Piers calming down enough to say, "Hiccup was talking to it, weren't you, Hiccup?"

Uncle Spitelout waited until Piers was safely out of the house before starting on Hiccup. He was so angry he could hardly speak. He managed to say, "Go - cupboard - stay - no meals," before he collapsed into a chair, and Aunt Freda had to run and get him a large brandy.

Hiccup lay in his dark cupboard much later, wishing he had a watch. He didn't know what time it was and he couldn't be sure the Jorgensons were asleep yet. Until they were, he couldn't risk sneaking to the kitchen for some food.

He'd lived with the Jorgensons almost ten years, ten miserable years, as long as he could remember, ever since he'd been a baby and his parents had died in that car crash. He couldn't remember being in the car when his parents had died. Sometimes, when he strained his memory during long hours in his cupboard, he came up with a strange vision: a blinding flash of green light and a burn- ing pain on his forehead. This, he supposed, was the crash, though he couldn't imagine where all the green light came from. He couldn't remember his parents at all. His aunt and uncle never spoke about them, and of course he was forbidden to ask questions. There were no photographs of them in the house.

When he had been younger, Hiccup had dreamed and dreamed of some unknown relation coming to take him away, but it had never happened; the Jorgensons were his only family. Yet sometimes he thought (or maybe hoped) that strangers in the street seemed to know him. Very strange strangers they were, too. A tiny man in a violet top hat had bowed to him once while out shopping with Aunt Freda and Snotlout. After asking Hiccup furiously if he knew the man, Aunt Freda had rushed them out of the shop without buying anything. A wild-looking old woman dressed all in green had waved merrily at him once on a bus. A bald man in a very long purple coat had actually shaken his hand in the street the other day and then walked away without a word. The weirdest thing about all these people was the way they seemed to vanish the second Hiccup tried to get a closer look.

At school, Hiccup had no one. Everybody knew that Snotlout's gang hated that odd Hiccup Haddock in his baggy old clothes and broken glasses, and nobody liked to disagree with Snotlout's gang.


	5. The Letters from No One

CHAPTER THREE

THE LETTERS FROM NO ONE

The escape of the Brazilian boa constrictor earned Hiccup his longest-ever punishment. By the time he was allowed out of his cupboard again, the summer holidays had started and Snotlout had already broken his new video camera, crashed his remote control airplane, and, first time out on his racing bike, knocked down old Mrs. Figg as she crossed Privet Drive on her crutches.

Hiccup was glad school was over, but there was no escaping Snotlout's gang, who visited the house every single day. Piers, Dennis, Malcolm, and Gordon were all big and stupid, but as Snotlout was the biggest and stupidest of the lot, he was the leader. The rest of them were all quite happy to join in Snotlout's favorite sport: Hiccup Hunting.

This was why Hiccup spent as much time as possible out of the house, wandering around and thinking about the end of the holidays, where he could see a tiny ray of hope. When September came he would be going off to secondary school and, for the first time in his life, he wouldn't be with Snotlout. Snotlout had been accepted at Uncle Spitelout's old private school, Smeltings. Piers Polkiss was going there too. Hiccup, on the other hand, was going to Stonewall High, the local public school. Snotlout thought this was very funny.

"They stuff people's heads down the toilet the first day at Stonewall," he told Hiccup. "Want to come upstairs and practice?"

"No, thanks," said Hiccup. "The poor toilet's never had anything as horrible as your head down it - it might be sick." Then he ran, before Snotlout could work out what he'd said.

One day in July, Aunt Freda took Snotlout to London to buy his Smeltings uniform, leaving Hiccup at Mrs. Figg's. Mrs. Figg wasn 't as bad as usual. It turned out she'd broken her leg tripping over one of her cats, and she didn't seem quite as fond of them as before. She let Hiccup watch television and gave him a bit of chocolate cake that tasted as though she'd had it for several years.

That evening, Snotlout paraded around the living room for the family in his brand-new uniform. Smeltings' boys wore maroon tailcoats, orange knickerbockers, and flat straw hats called boaters. They also carried knobbly sticks, used for hitting each other while the teachers weren't looking. This was supposed to be good training for later life.

As he looked at Snotlout in his new knickerbockers, Uncle Spitelout said gruffly that it was the proudest moment of his life. Aunt Freda burst into tears and said she couldn't believe it was her Ickle Snotloutkins, he looked so handsome and grown-up. Hiccup didn't trust himself to speak. He thought two of his ribs might already have cracked from trying not to laugh.

There was a horrible smell in the kitchen the next morning when Hiccup went in for breakfast. It seemed to be coming from a large metal tub in the sink. He went to have a look. The tub was full of what looked like dirty rags swimming in gray water.

"What's this?" he asked Aunt Freda. Her lips tightened as they always did if he dared to ask a question.

"Your new school uniform," she said.

Hiccup looked in the bowl again.

"Oh," he said, "I didn't realize it had to be so wet."

"Don't be stupid," snapped Aunt Freda. "I'm dyeing some of Snotlout's old things gray for you. It'll look just like everyone else's when I've finished."

Hiccup seriously doubted this, but thought it best not to argue. He sat down at the table and tried not to think about how he was going to look on his first day at Stonewall High - like he was wearing bits of old elephant skin, probably.

Snotlout and Uncle Spitelout came in, both with wrinkled noses because of the smell from Hiccup's new uniform. Uncle Spitelout opened his newspaper as usual and Snotlout banged his Smelting stick, which he carried everywhere, on the table.

They heard the click of the mail slot and flop of letters on the doormat.

"Get the mail, Snotlout," said Uncle Spitelout from behind his paper.

"Make Hiccup get it."

"Get the mail, Hiccup."

"Make Snotlout get it."

"Poke him with your Smelting stick, Snotlout."

Hiccup dodged the Smelting stick and went to get the mail. Three things lay on the doormat: a postcard from Uncle Spitelout's sister Marge, who was vacationing on the Isle of Wight, a brown envelope that looked like a bill, and - a letter for Hiccup.

Hiccup picked it up and stared at it, his heart twanging like a giant elastic band. No one, ever, in his whole life, had written to him. Who would? He had no friends, no other relatives - he didn't belong to the library, so he'd never even got rude notes asking for books back. Yet here it was, a letter, addressed so plainly there could be no mistake:

Mr. H. Haddock

The Cupboard under the Stairs

4 Privet Drive

Little Whinging

Surrey

The envelope was thick and heavy, made of yellowish parchment, and the address was written in emerald-green ink. There was no stamp.

Turning the envelope over, his hand trembling, Hiccup saw a purple wax seal bearing a coat of arms; a lion, an eagle, a badger, and a snake surrounding a large letter H.

"Hurry up, boy!" shouted Uncle Spitelout from the kitchen. "What are you doing, checking for letter bombs?" He chuckled at his own joke.

Hiccup went back to the kitchen, still staring at his letter. He handed Uncle Spitelout the bill and the postcard, sat down, and slowly began to open the yellow envelope.

Uncle Spitelout ripped open the bill, snorted in disgust, and flipped over the postcard.

"Marge's ill," he informed Aunt Freda. "Ate a funny whelk. -."

"Dad!" said Snotlout suddenly. "Dad, Hiccup's got something!"

Hiccup was on the point of unfolding his letter, which was written on the same heavy parchment as the envelope, when it was jerked sharply out of his hand by Uncle Spitelout.

"That's mine!" said Hiccup, trying to snatch it back.

"Who'd be writing to you?" sneered Uncle Spitelout, shaking the letter open with one hand and glancing at it. His face went from red to green faster than a set of traffic lights. And it didn't stop there. Within seconds it was the grayish white of old porridge.

"F-F-Freda!" he gasped.

Snotlout tried to grab the letter to read it, but Uncle Spitelout held it high out of his reach. Aunt Freda took it curiously and read the first line. For a moment it looked as though she might faint. She clutched her throat and made a choking noise.

"Spitelout! Oh my goodness - Spitelout!"

They stared at each other, seeming to have forgotten that Hiccup and Snotlout were still in the room. Snotlout wasn't used to being ignored. He gave his father a sharp tap on the head with his Smelting stick.

"I want to read that letter," he said loudly. want to read it," said Hiccup furiously, "as it's mine."

"Get out, both of you," croaked Uncle Spitelout, stuffing the letter back inside its envelope.

Hiccup didn't move.

I WANT MY LETTER!" he shouted.

"Let me see it!" demanded Snotlout.

"OUT!" roared Uncle Spitelout, and he took both Hiccup and Snotlout by the scruffs of their necks and threw them into the hall, slamming the kitchen door behind them. Hiccup and Snotlout promptly had a furious but silent fight over who would listen at the keyhole; Snotlout won, so Hiccup, his glasses dangling from one ear, lay flat on his stomach to listen at the crack between door and floor.

"Spitelout," Aunt Freda was saying in a quivering voice, "look at the address - how could they possibly know where he sleeps? You don't think they're watching the house?"

"Watching - spying - might be following us," muttered Uncle Spitelout wildly.

"But what should we do, Spitelout? Should we write back? Tell them we don't want -"

Hiccup could see Uncle Spitelout's shiny black shoes pacing up and down the kitchen.

"No," he said finally. "No, we'll ignore it. If they don't get an answer... Yes, that's best... we won't do anything...

"But -"

"I'm not having one in the house, Freda! Didn't we swear when we took him in we'd stamp out that dangerous nonsense?"

That evening when he got back from work, Uncle Spitelout did something he'd never done before; he visited Hiccup in his cupboard.

"Where's my letter?" said Hiccup, the moment Uncle Spitelout had squeezed through the door. "Who's writing to me?"

"No one. it was addressed to you by mistake," said Uncle Spitelout shortly. "I have burned it."

"It was not a mistake," said Hiccup angrily, "it had my cupboard on it." "SILENCE!" yelled Uncle Spitelout, and a couple of spiders fell from the ceiling. He took a few deep breaths and then forced his face into a smile, which looked quite painful.

"Er - yes, Hiccup - about this cupboard. Your aunt and I have been thinking... you're really getting a bit big for it... we think it might be nice if you moved into Snotlout's second bedroom.

"Why?" said Hiccup.

"Don't ask questions!" snapped his uncle. "Take this stuff upstairs, now."

The Jorgenson's house had four bedrooms: one for Uncle Spitelout and Aunt Freda, one for visitors (usually Uncle Spitelout's sister, Marge), one where Snotlout slept, and one where Snotlout kept all the toys and things that wouldn't fit into his first bedroom. It only took Hiccup one trip upstairs to move everything he owned from the cupboard to this room. He sat down on the bed and stared around him. Nearly everything in here was broken. The month-old video camera was lying on top of a small, working tank Snotlout had once driven over the next door neighbor's dog; in the corner was Snotlout's first-ever television set, which he'd put his foot through when his favorite program had been canceled; there was a large birdcage, which had once held a parrot that Snotlout had swapped at school for a real air rifle, which was up on a shelf with the end all bent because Snotlout had sat on it. Other shelves were full of books. They were the only things in the room that looked as though they'd never been touched.

From downstairs came the sound of Snotlout bawling at his mother, I don't want him in there... I need that room... make him get out..."

Hiccup sighed and stretched out on the bed. Yesterday he'd have given anything to be up here. Today he'd rather be back in his cupboard with that letter than up here without it.

Next morning at breakfast, everyone was rather quiet. Snotlout was in shock. He'd screamed, whacked his father with his Smelting stick, been sick on purpose, kicked his mother, and thrown his tortoise through the greenhouse roof, and he still didn't have his room back. Hiccup was thinking about this time yesterday and bitterly wishing he'd opened the letter in the hall. Uncle Spitelout and Aunt Freda kept looking at each other darkly.

When the mail arrived, Uncle Spitelout, who seemed to be trying to be nice to Hiccup, made Snotlout go and get it. They heard him banging things with his Smelting stick all the way down the hall. Then he shouted, "There's another one! 'Mr. H. Haddock, The Smallest Bedroom, 4 Privet Drive -'"

With a strangled cry, Uncle Spitelout leapt from his seat and ran down the hall, Hiccup right behind him. Uncle Spitelout had to wrestle Snotlout to the ground to get the letter from him, which was made difficult by the fact that Hiccup had grabbed Uncle Spitelout around the neck from behind. After a minute of confused fighting, in which everyone got hit a lot by the Smelting stick, Uncle Spitelout straightened up, gasping for breath, with Hiccup's letter clutched in his hand.

"Go to your cupboard - I mean, your bedroom," he wheezed at Hiccup. "Snotlout - go - just go."

Hiccup walked round and round his new room. Someone knew he had moved out of his cupboard and they seemed to know he hadn't received his first letter. Surely that meant they'd try again? And this time he'd make sure they didn't fail. He had a plan.

The repaired alarm clock rang at six o'clock the next morning. Hiccup turned it off quickly and dressed silently. He mustn't wake the Jorgensons. He stole downstairs without turning on any of the lights. He was going to wait for the postman on the corner of Privet Drive and get the letters for number four first. His heart hammered as he crept across the dark hall toward the front door -

Hiccup leapt into the air; he'd trodden on something big and squashy on the doormat - something alive!

Lights clicked on upstairs and to his horror Hiccup realized that the big, squashy something had been his uncle's face. Uncle Spitelout had been lying at the foot of the front door in a sleeping bag, clearly making sure that Hiccup didn't do exactly what he'd been trying to do. He shouted at Hiccup for about half an hour and then told him to go and make a cup of tea. Hiccup shuffled miserably off into the kitchen and by the time he got back, the mail had arrived, right into Uncle Spitelout's lap. Hiccup could see three letters addressed in green ink.

I want -" he began, but Uncle Spitelout was tearing the letters into pieces before his eyes. Uncle Spitelout didnt go to work that day. He stayed at home and nailed up the mail slot.

"See," he explained to Aunt Freda through a mouthful of nails, "if they can't deliver them they'll just give up."

"I'm not sure that'll work, Spitelout."

"Oh, these people's minds work in strange ways, Freda, they're not like you and me," said Uncle Spitelout, trying to knock in a nail with the piece of fruitcake Aunt Freda had just brought him.

On Friday, no less than twelve letters arrived for Hiccup. As they couldn't go through the mail slot they had been pushed under the door, slotted through the sides, and a few even forced through the small window in the downstairs bathroom.

Uncle Spitelout stayed at home again. After burning all the letters, he got out a hammer and nails and boarded up the cracks around the front and back doors so no one could go out. He hummed "Tiptoe Through the Tulips" as he worked, and jumped at small noises.

On Saturday, things began to get out of hand. Twenty-four letters to Hiccup found their way into the house, rolled up and hidden inside each of the two dozen eggs that their very confused milkman had handed Aunt Freda through the living room window. While Uncle Spitelout made furious telephone calls to the post office and the dairy trying to find someone to complain to, Aunt Freda shredded the letters in her food processor.

"Who on earth wants to talk to you this badly?" Snotlout asked Hiccup in amazement.

On Sunday morning, Uncle Spitelout sat down at the breakfast table looking tired and rather ill, but happy.

"No post on Sundays," he reminded them cheerfully as he spread marmalade on his newspapers, "no damn letters today -"

Something came whizzing down the kitchen chimney as he spoke and caught him sharply on the back of the head. Next moment, thirty or forty letters came pelting out of the fireplace like bullets. The Jorgensons ducked, but Hiccup leapt into the air trying to catch one.

"Out! OUT!"

Uncle Spitelout seized Hiccup around the waist and threw him into the hall. When Aunt Freda and Snotlout had run out with their arms over their faces, Uncle Spitelout slammed the door shut. They could hear the letters still streaming into the room, bouncing off the walls and floor.

"That does it," said Uncle Spitelout, trying to speak calmly but pulling great tufts out of his mustache at the same time. I want you all back here in five minutes ready to leave. We're going away. Just pack some clothes. No arguments!"

He looked so dangerous with half his mustache missing that no one dared argue. Ten minutes later they had wrenched their way through the boarded-up doors and were in the car, speeding toward the highway. Snotlout was sniffling in the back seat; his father had hit him round the head for holding them up while he tried to pack his television, VCR, and computer in his sports bag.

They drove. And they drove. Even Aunt Freda didn't dare ask where they were going. Every now and then Uncle Spitelout would take a sharp turn and drive in the opposite direction for a while. "Shake'em off... shake 'em off," he would mutter whenever he did this.

They didn't stop to eat or drink all day. By nightfall Snotlout was howling. He'd never had such a bad day in his life. He was hungry, he'd missed five television programs he'd wanted to see, and he'd never gone so long without blowing up an alien on his computer.

Uncle Spitelout stopped at last outside a gloomy-looking hotel on the outskirts of a big city. Snotlout and Hiccup shared a room with twin beds and damp, musty sheets. Snotlout snored but Hiccup stayed awake, sitting on the windowsill, staring down at the lights of passing cars and wondering...

They ate stale cornflakes and cold tinned tomatoes on toast for breakfast the next day. They had just finished when the owner of the hotel came over to their table.

"'Scuse me, but is one of you Mr. H. Haddock? Only I got about an 'undred of these at the front desk."

She held up a letter so they could read the green ink address:

Mr. H. Haddock

Room 17

Railview Hotel

Cokeworth

Hiccup made a grab for the letter but Uncle Spitelout knocked his hand out of the way. The woman stared.

"I'll take them," said Uncle Spitelout, standing up quickly and following her from the dining room.

Wouldn't it be better just to go home, dear?" Aunt Freda suggested timidly, hours later, but Uncle Spitelout didn't seem to hear her. Exactly what he was looking for, none of them knew. He drove them into the middle of a forest, got out, looked around, shook his head, got back in the car, and off they went again. The same thing happened in the middle of a plowed field, halfway across a suspension bridge, and at the top of a multilevel parking garage.

"Daddy's gone mad, hasn't he?" Snotlout asked Aunt Freda dully late that afternoon. Uncle Spitelout had parked at the coast, locked them all inside the car, and disappeared.

It started to rain. Great drops beat on the roof of the car. Snotlout sniveled.

"It's Monday," he told his mother. "The Great Humberto's on tonight. I want to stay somewhere with a television. "

Monday. This reminded Hiccup of something. If it was Monday - and you could usually count on Snotlout to know the days the week, because of television - then tomorrow, Tuesday, was Hiccup's eleventh birthday. Of course, his birthdays were never exactly fun - last year, the Jorgensons had given him a coat hanger and a pair of Uncle Spitelout's old socks. Still, you weren't eleven every day.

Uncle Spitelout was back and he was smiling. He was also carrying a long, thin package and didn't answer Aunt Freda when she asked what he'd bought.

"Found the perfect place!" he said. "Come on! Everyone out!"

It was very cold outside the car. Uncle Spitelout was pointing at what looked like a large rock way out at sea. Perched on top of the rock was the most miserable little shack you could imagine. One thing was certain, there was no television in there.

"Storm forecast for tonight!" said Uncle Spitelout gleefully, clapping his hands together. "And this gentleman's kindly agreed to lend us his boat!"

A toothless old man came ambling up to them, pointing, with a rather wicked grin, at an old rowboat bobbing in the iron-gray water below them.

"I've already got us some rations," said Uncle Spitelout, "so all aboard!"

It was freezing in the boat. Icy sea spray and rain crept down their necks and a chilly wind whipped their faces. After what seemed like hours they reached the rock, where Uncle Spitelout, slipping and sliding, led the way to the broken-down house.

The inside was horrible; it smelled strongly of seaweed, the wind whistled through the gaps in the wooden walls, and the fireplace was damp and empty. There were only two rooms.

Uncle Spitelout's rations turned out to be a bag of chips each and four bananas. He tried to start a fire but the empty chip bags just smoked and shriveled up.

"Could do with some of those letters now, eh?" he said cheerfully. He was in a very good mood. Obviously he thought nobody stood a chance of reaching them here in a storm to deliver mail. Hiccup privately agreed, though the thought didn't cheer him up at all.

As night fell, the promised storm blew up around them. Spray from the high waves splattered the walls of the hut and a fierce wind rattled the filthy windows. Aunt Freda found a few moldy blankets in the second room and made up a bed for Snotlout on the moth-eaten sofa. She and Uncle Spitelout went off to the lumpy bed next door, and Hiccup was left to find the softest bit of floor he could and to curl up under the thinnest, most ragged blanket.

The storm raged more and more ferociously as the night went on. Hiccup couldn't sleep. He shivered and turned over, trying to get comfortable, his stomach rumbling with hunger. Snotlout's snores were drowned by the low rolls of thunder that started near midnight. The lighted dial of Snotlout's watch, which was dangling over the edge of the sofa on his fat wrist, told Hiccup he'd be eleven in ten minutes' time. He lay and watched his birthday tick nearer, wondering if the Jorgensons would remember at all, wondering where the letter writer was now.

Five minutes to go. Hiccup heard something creak outside. He hoped the roof wasn't going to fall in, although he might be warmer if it did. Four minutes to go. Maybe the house in Privet Drive would be so full of letters when they got back that he'd be able to steal one somehow. Three minutes to go. Was that the sea, slapping hard on the rock like that? And (two minutes to go) what was that funny crunching noise? Was the rock crumbling into the sea?

One minute to go and he'd be eleven. Thirty seconds... twenty ... ten...nine - maybe he'd wake Snotlout up, just to annoy him - three... two...one...

BOOM.

The whole shack shivered and Hiccup sat bolt upright, staring at the door. Someone was outside, knocking to come in.

**BTW, Fishlegs, Astrid, Tuffnut and Ruffnut will be siblings, Stoick will be skinny and Hiccup will look his father but with Valka's eyes and Alvin is the childhood friend of Valka**


	6. The Keeper of the Keys

**I made Mulch as a giant**

CHAPTER FOUR

THE KEEPER OF THE KEYS

BOOM. They knocked again. Snotlout jerked awake. "Where's the cannon?" he said stupidly.

There was a crash behind them and Uncle Vernon came skidding into the room. He was holding a rifle in his hands - now they knew what had been in the long, thin package he had brought with them.

"Who's there?" he shouted. "I warn you - I'm armed!"

There was a pause. Then -

SMASH!

The door was hit with such force that it swung clean off its hinges and with a deafening crash landed flat on the floor.

A giant of a man was standing in the doorway. His face was almost completely hidden by a long, shaggy mane of hair and a wild, tangled beard, but you could make out his eyes, glinting like black beetles under all the hair.

The giant squeezed his way into the hut, stooping so that his head just brushed the ceiling. He bent down, picked up the door, and fitted it easily back into its frame. The noise of the storm outside dropped a little. He turned to look at them all.

"Couldn't make us a cup o' tea, could yeh? It's not been an easy journey..."

He strode over to the sofa where Snotlout sat frozen with fear.

"Budge up, yeh great lump," said the stranger.

Snotlout squeaked and ran to hide behind his mother, who was crouching, terrified, behind Uncle Spitelout.

"An' here's Hiccup!" said the giant.

Hiccup looked up into the fierce, wild, shadowy face and saw that the beetle eyes were crinkled in a smile.

"Las' time I saw you, you was only a baby," said the giant. "Yeh look a lot like yet dad, but yeh've got yet mom's eyes."

Uncle Spitelout made a funny rasping noise.

I demand that you leave at once, sit!" he said. "You are breaking and entering!"

"Ah, shut up, Jorgenson, yeh great prune," said the giant; he reached over the back of the sofa, jerked the gun out of Uncle Spitelout's hands, bent it into a knot as easily as if it had been made of rubber, and threw it into a corner of the room.

Uncle Spitelout made another funny noise, like a mouse being trodden on. "Anyway - Hiccup," said the giant, turning his back on the Jorgensons, "a very happy birthday to yeh. Got summat fer yeh here - I mighta sat on it at some point, but it'll taste all right."

From an inside pocket of his black overcoat he pulled a slightly squashed box. Hiccup opened it with trembling fingers. Inside was a large, sticky chocolate cake with Happy Birthday Hiccup written on it in green icing.

Hiccup looked up at the giant. He meant to say thank you, but the words got lost on the way to his mouth, and what he said instead was, "Who are you?"

The giant chuckled.

"True, I haven't introduced meself. Rubeus Mulch, Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts."

He held out an enormous hand and shook Hiccup's whole arm.

"What about that tea then, eh?" he said, rubbing his hands together. "I'd not say no ter summat stronger if yeh've got it, mind."

His eyes fell on the empty grate with the shriveled chip bags in it and he snorted. He bent down over the fireplace; they couldn't see what he was doing but when he drew back a second later, there was a roaring fire there. It filled the whole damp hut with flickering light and Hiccup felt the warmth wash over him as though he'd sunk into a hot bath.

The giant sat back down on the sofa, which sagged under his weight, and began taking all sorts of things out of the pockets of his coat: a copper kettle, a squashy package of sausages, a poker, a teapot, several chipped mugs, and a bottle of some amber liquid that he took a swig from before starting to make tea. Soon the hut was full of the sound and smell of sizzling sausage. Nobody said a thing while the giant was working, but as he slid the first six fat, juicy, slightly burnt sausages from the poker, Snotlout fidgeted a little. Uncle Spitelout said sharply, "Don't touch anything he gives you, Snotlout."

The giant chuckled darkly.

"Yet great puddin' of a son don' need fattenin' anymore, Jorgenson, don' worry."

He passed the sausages to Hiccup, who was so hungry he had never tasted anything so wonderful, but he still couldn't take his eyes off the giant. Finally, as nobody seemed about to explain anything, he said, "I'm sorry, but I still don't really know who you are."

The giant took a gulp of tea and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Call me Mulch," he said, "everyone does. An' like I told yeh, I'm Keeper of Keys at Hogwarts - yeh'll know all about Hogwarts, o' course.

"Er - no," said Hiccup.

Mulch looked shocked.

"Sorry," Hiccup said quickly.

"Sony?" barked Mulch, turning to stare at the Dursleys, who shrank back into the shadows. "It' s them as should be sorry! I knew yeh weren't gettin' yer letters but I never thought yeh wouldn't even know abou' Hogwarts, fer cryin' out loud! Did yeh never wonder where yet parents learned it all?"

"All what?" asked Hiccup.

"ALL WHAT?" Mulch thundered. "Now wait jus' one second!"

He had leapt to his feet. In his anger he seemed to fill the whole hut. The Jorgensons were cowering against the wall.

"Do you mean ter tell me," he growled at the Jorgensons, "that this boy -this boy! - knows nothin' abou' - about ANYTHING?"

Hiccup thought this was going a bit far. He had been to school, after all, and his marks weren't bad.

"I know some things," he said. "I can, you know, do math and stuff." But Mulch simply waved his hand and said, "About our world, I mean. Your world. My world. Yer parents' world."

"What world?"

Mulch looked as if he was about to explode.

"JORGENSON!" he boomed.

Uncle Spitelout, who had gone very pale, whispered something that sounded like "Mimblewimble." Mulch stared wildly at Hiccup.

"But yeh must know about yet mom and dad," he said. "I mean, they're famous. You're famous."

"What? My - my mom and dad weren't famous, were they?"

"Yeh don' know... yeh don' know..." Mulch ran his fingers through his hair, fixing Hiccup with a bewildered stare.

"Yeh don' know what yeh are?" he said finally.

Uncle Spitelout suddenly found his voice.

"Stop!" he commanded. "Stop right there, sit! I forbid you to tell the boy anything!"

A braver man than Spitelout Jorgenson would have quailed under the furious look Mulch now gave him; when Mulch spoke, his every syllable trembled with rage.

"You never told him? Never told him what was in the letter Thor left fer him? I was there! I saw Thor leave it, Jorgenson! An' you've kept it from him all these years?"

"Kept what from me?" said Hiccup eagerly.

"STOP! I FORBID YOU!" yelled Uncle Spitelout in panic.

Aunt Freda gave a gasp of horror.

"Ah, go boil yet heads, both of yeh," said Mulch. "Hiccup - yet a wizard."

There was silence inside the hut. Only the sea and the whistling wind could be heard.

"- a what?" gasped Hiccup.

"A wizard, o' course," said Mulch, sitting back down on the sofa, which groaned and sank even lower, "an' a thumpin' good'un, I'd say, once yeh've been trained up a bit. With a mum an' dad like yours, what else would yeh be? An' I reckon it's abou' time yeh read yer letter."

Hiccup stretched out his hand at last to take the yellowish envelope, addressed in emerald green to Mr. H. Haddock, The Floor, Hut-on-the-Rock, The Sea. He pulled out the letter and read:

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Headmaster: ODIN THOR

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme

Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Mr. Haddock,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva Gothi,

Deputy Headmistress

Questions exploded inside Hiccup's head like fireworks and he couldn't decide which to ask first. After a few minutes he stammered, "What does it mean, they await my owl?"

"Gallopin' Gorgons, that reminds me," said Mulch, clapping a hand to his forehead with enough force to knock over a cart horse, and from yet another pocket inside his overcoat he pulled an owl - a real, live, rather ruffled-looking owl - a long quill, and a roll of parchment. With his tongue between his teeth he scribbled a note that Hiccup could read upside down:

Dear Professor Thor,

Given Hiccup his letter.

Taking him to buy his things tomorrow.

Weather's horrible. Hope you're Well.

Mulch

Mulch rolled up the note, gave it to the owl, which clamped it in its beak, went to the door, and threw the owl out into the storm. Then he came back and sat down as though this was as normal as talking on the telephone.

Hiccup realized his mouth was open and closed it quickly.

"Where was I?" said Mulch, but at that moment, Uncle Spitelout, still ashen-faced but looking very angry, moved into the firelight.

"He's not going," he said.

Mulch grunted.

"I'd like ter see a great Muggle like you stop him," he said.

"A what?" said Hiccup, interested.

"A Muggle," said Hagrid, "it's what we call nonmagic folk like thern. An' it's your bad luck you grew up in a family o' the biggest Muggles I ever laid eyes on."

"We swore when we took him in we'd put a stop to that rubbish," said Uncle Spitelout, "swore we'd stamp it out of him! Wizard indeed!"

"You knew?" said Hiccup. "You knew I'm a - a wizard?"

"Knew!" shrieked Aunt Freda suddenly. "Knew! Of course we knew! How could you not be, my dratted sister being what she was? Oh, she got a letter just like that and disappeared off to that-that school-and came home every vacation with her pockets full of frog spawn, turning teacups into rats. I was the only one who saw her for what she was - a freak! But for my mother and father, oh no, it was Valka this and Valka that, they were proud of having a witch in the family!"

She stopped to draw a deep breath and then went ranting on. It seemed she had been wanting to say all this for years.

"Then she met that Haddock at school and they left and got married and had you, and of course I knew you'd be just the same, just as strange, just as - as - abnormal - and then, if you please, she went and got herself blown up and we got landed with you!"

Hiccup had gone very white. As soon as he found his voice he said, "Blown up? You told me they died in a car crash!"

"CAR CRASH!" roared Hagrid, jumping up so angrily that the Jorgensons scuttled back to their corner. "How could a car crash kill Valka an' Stoick Haddock? It's an outrage! A scandal! Hiccup Haddock not knowin' his own story when every kid in our world knows his name!" "But why? What happened?" Hiccup asked urgently.

The anger faded from Mulch's face. He looked suddenly anxious.

"I never expected this," he said, in a low, worried voice. "I had no idea, when Thor told me there might be trouble gettin' hold of yeh, how much yeh didn't know. Ah, Hiccup, I don' know if I'm the right person ter tell yeh - but someone 3 s gotta - yeh can't go off ter Hogwarts not knowin'."

He threw a dirty look at the Jorgensons.

"Well, it's best yeh know as much as I can tell yeh - mind, I can't tell yeh everythin', it's a great myst'ry, parts of it..."

He sat down, stared into the fire for a few seconds, and then said, "It begins, I suppose, with - with a person called - but it's incredible yeh don't know his name, everyone in our world knows -"

"Who? "

"Well - I don' like sayin' the name if I can help it. No one does."

"Why not?"

"Gulpin' gargoyles, Hiccup, people are still scared. Blimey, this is difficult. See, there was this wizard who went... bad. As bad as you could go. Worse. Worse than worse. His name was..."

Mulch gulped, but no words came out.

"Could you write it down?" Hiccup suggested.

"Nah -can't spell it. All right - Drago. " Hiccup shuddered. "Don' make me say it again. Anyway, this - this wizard, about twenty years ago now, started lookin' fer followers. Got 'em, too - some were afraid, some just wanted a bit o' his power, 'cause he was gettin' himself power, all right. Dark days, Hiccup. Didn't know who ter trust, didn't dare get friendly with strange wizards or witches... terrible things happened. He was takin' over. 'Course, some stood up to him -an' he killed 'em. Horribly. One o' the only safe places left was Hogwarts. Reckon Thor's the only one You-Know-Who was afraid of. Didn't dare try takin' the school, not jus' then, anyway.

"Now, yer mum an' dad were as good a witch an' wizard as I ever knew. Head boy an' girl at Hogwarts in their day! Suppose the myst'ry is why You-Know-Who never tried to get 'em on his side before... probably knew they were too close ter Dumbledore ter want anythin' ter do with the Dark Side.

"Maybe he thought he could persuade 'em... maybe he just wanted 'em outta the way. All anyone knows is, he turned up in the village where you was all living, on Halloween ten years ago. You was just a year old. He came ter yer house an' - an' -"

Mulch suddenly pulled out a very dirty, spotted handkerchief and blew his nose with a sound like a foghorn.

"Sorry," he said. "But it's that sad - knew yer mum an' dad, an' nicer people yeh couldn't find - anyway..."

"You-Know-Who killed 'em. An' then - an' this is the real myst'ry of the thing - he tried to kill you, too. Wanted ter make a clean job of it, I suppose, or maybe he just liked killin' by then. But he couldn't do it. Never wondered how you got that mark on yer forehead? That was no ordinary cut. That's what yeh get when a Powerful, evil curse touches yeh - took care of yer mum an' dad an' yer house, even - but it didn't work on you, an' that's why yer famous, Hiccup. No one ever lived after he decided ter kill 'em, no one except you, an' he'd killed some o' the best witches an' wizards of the age - the McKinnons, the Bones, the Prewetts - an' you was only a baby, an' you lived."

Something very painful was going on in Hiccup's mind. As Mulch's story came to a close, he saw again the blinding flash of green light, more clearly than he had ever remembered it before - and he remembered something else, for the first time in his life: a high, cold, cruel laugh.

Mulch was watching him sadly.

"Took yeh from the ruined house myself, on Thor's orders. Brought yeh ter this lot..."

"Load of old tosh," said Uncle Spitelout. Hiccup jumped; he had almost forgotten that the Jorgensons were there. Uncle Vernon certainly seemed to have got back his courage. He was glaring at Mulch and his fists were clenched.

"Now, you listen here, boy," he snarled, "I accept there's something strange about you, probably nothing a good beating wouldn't have cured - and as for all this about your parents, well, they were weirdos, no denying it, and the world's better off without them in my opinion -asked for all they got, getting mixed up with these wizarding types -just what I expected, always knew they'd come to a sticky end -"

But at that moment, Mulch leapt from the sofa and drew a battered pink umbrella from inside his coat. Pointing this at Uncle Vernon like a sword, he said, "I'm warning you, Jorgenson -I'm warning you - one more word... "

In danger of being speared on the end of an umbrella by a bearded giant, Uncle Spitelout's courage failed again; he flattened himself against the wall and fell silent.

"That's better," said Mulch, breathing heavily and sitting back down on the sofa, which this time sagged right down to the floor.

Hiccup, meanwhile, still had questions to ask, hundreds of them. "But what happened to Dra-, sorry - I mean, You-Know-Who?"

"Good question, Hiccup. Disappeared. Vanished. Same night he tried ter kill you. Makes yeh even more famous. That's the biggest myst'ry, see... he was gettin' more an' more powerful - why'd he go?

"Some say he died. Codswallop, in my opinion. Dunno if he had enough human left in him to die. Some say he's still out there, bidin' his time, like, but I don' believe it. People who was on his side came back ter ours. Some of 'em came outta kinda trances. Don~ reckon they could've done if he was comin' back.

"Most of us reckon he's still out there somewhere but lost his powers. Too weak to carry on. 'Cause somethin' about you finished him, Hiccup. There was somethin' goin' on that night he hadn't counted on - I dunno what it was, no one does - but somethin' about you stumped him, all right."

Mulch looked at Hiccup with warmth and respect blazing in his eyes, but Hiccup, instead of feeling pleased and proud, felt quite sure there had been a horrible mistake. A wizard? Him? How could he possibly be? He'd spent his life being clouted by Snotlout, and bullied by Aunt Freda and Uncle Spitelout; if he was really a wizard, why hadn't they been turned into warty toads every time they'd tried to lock him in his cupboard? If he'd once defeated the greatest sorcerer in the world, how come Snotlout had always been able to kick him around like a football?

"Mulch," he said quietly, "I think you must have made a mistake. I don't think I can be a wizard."

To his surprise, Mulch chuckled.

"Not a wizard, eh? Never made things happen when you was scared or angry?"

Hiccup looked into the fire. Now he came to think about it... every odd thing that had ever made his aunt and uncle furious with him had happened when he, Hiccup, had been upset or angry... chased by Snotlout's gang, he had somehow found himself out of their reach... dreading going to school with that ridiculous haircut, he'd managed to make it grow back... and the very last time Snotlout had hit him, hadn't he got his revenge, without even realizing he was doing it? Hadn't he set a boa constrictor on him?

Hiccup looked back at Mulch, smiling, and saw that Mulch was positively beaming at him.

"See?" said Mulch. "Hiccup Haddock, not a wizard - you wait, you'll be right famous at Hogwarts."

But Uncle Spitelout wasn't going to give in without a fight.

"Haven't I told you he's not going?" he hissed. "He's going to Stonewall High and he'll be grateful for it. I've read those letters and he needs all sorts of rubbish - spell books and wands and -"

"If he wants ter go, a great Muggle like you won't stop him," growled Mulch. "Stop Valka an' Stoick Haddock' s son goin' ter Hogwarts! Yer mad. His name's been down ever since he was born. He's off ter the finest school of witchcraft and wizardry in the world. Seven years there and he won't know himself. He'll be with youngsters of his own sort, fer a change, an' he'll be under the greatest headmaster Hogwarts ever had Odin Th-"

"I AM NOT PAYING FOR SOME CRACKPOT OLD FOOL To TEACH HIM MAGIC TRICKS!" yelled Uncle Spitelout.

But he had finally gone too far. Mulch seized his umbrella and whirled it over his head, "NEVER," he thundered, "- INSULT-ODIN-THOR-IN-FRONT-OF-ME!"

He brought the umbrella swishing down through the air to point at Snotlout- there was a flash of violet light, a sound like a firecracker, a sharp squeal, and the next second, Snotlout was dancing on the spot with his hands clasped over his fat bottom, howling in pain. When he turned his back on them, Harry saw a curly pig's tail poking through a hole in his trousers.

Uncle Spitelout roared. Pulling Aunt Freda and Snotlout into the other room, he cast one last terrified look at Hagrid and slammed the door behind them.

Mulch looked down at his umbrella and stroked his beard.

"Shouldn'ta lost me temper," he said ruefully, "but it didn't work anyway. Meant ter turn him into a pig, but I suppose he was so much like a pig anyway there wasn't much left ter do."

He cast a sideways look at Hiccup under his bushy eyebrows.

"Be grateful if yeh didn't mention that ter anyone at Hogwarts," he said. "I'm - er - not supposed ter do magic, strictly speakin'. I was allowed ter do a bit ter follow yeh an' get yer letters to yeh an' stuff- one o' the reasons I was so keen ter take on the job

"Why aren't you supposed to do magic?" asked Hiccup.

"Oh, well - I was at Hogwarts meself but I - er - got expelled, ter tell yeh the truth. In me third year. They snapped me wand in half an' everything. But Thor let me stay on as gamekeeper. Great man, Thor." "Why were you expelled?"

"It's gettin' late and we've got lots ter do tomorrow," said Mulch loudly. "Gotta get up ter town, get all yer books an' that." He took off his thick black coat and threw it to Hiccup.

"You can kip under that," he said. "Don' mind if it wriggles a bit, I think I still got a couple o' dormice in one o' the pockets."


	7. Diagon Alley

CHAPTER FIVE

DIAGON ALLEY

Hiccup woke early the next morning. Although he could tell it was daylight, he kept his eyes shut tight.

"It was a dream, he told himself firmly. "I dreamed a giant called Hagrid came to tell me I was going to a school for wizards. When I open my eyes I'll be at home in my cupboard."

There was suddenly a loud tapping noise.

And there's Aunt Freda knocking on the door, Hiccup thought, his heart sinking. But he still didn't open his eyes. It had been such a good dream.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

"All right," Hiccup mumbled, "I'm getting up."

He sat up and Mulch's heavy coat fell off him. The hut was full of sunlight, the storm was over, Mulch himself was asleep on the collapsed sofa, and there was an owl rapping its claw on the window, a newspaper held in its beak.

Hiccup scrambled to his feet, so happy he felt as though a large balloon was swelling inside him. He went straight to the window and jerked it open. The owl swooped in and dropped the newspaper on top of Mulch, who didn't wake up. The owl then fluttered onto the floor and began to attack Mulch's coat.

"Don't do that."

Hiccup tried to wave the owl out of the way, but it snapped its beak fiercely at him and carried on savaging the coat.

"Mulch!" said Hiccup loudly. "There's an owl

"Pay him," Mulch grunted into the sofa.

"What?"

"He wants payin' fer deliverin' the paper. Look in the pockets." Mulch's coat seemed to be made of nothing but pockets - bunches of keys, slug pellets, balls of string, peppermint humbugs, teabags... finally, Hiccup pulled out a handful of strange-looking coins.

"Give him five Knuts," said Mulch sleepily.

"Knuts?"

"The little bronze ones."

Hiccup counted out five little bronze coins, and the owl held out his leg so Hiccup could put the money into a small leather pouch tied to it. Then he flew off through the open window.

Mulch yawned loudly, sat up, and stretched.

"Best be Off, Hiccup, lots ter do today, gotta get up ter London an' buy all yer stuff fer school."

Hiccup was turning over the wizard coins and looking at them. He had just thought of something that made him feel as though the happy balloon inside him had got a puncture.

"Um - Mulch?"

"Mm?" said Mulch, who was pulling on his huge boots.

"I haven't got any money - and you heard Uncle Spitelout last night ... he won't pay for me to go and learn magic."

"Don't worry about that," said Mulch, standing up and scratching his head. "D'yeh think yer parents didn't leave yeh anything?"

"But if their house was destroyed -"

"They didn' keep their gold in the house, boy! Nah, first stop fer us is Gringotts. Wizards' bank. Have a sausage, they're not bad cold - an' I wouldn' say no teh a bit o' yer birthday cake, neither."

"Wizards have banks?"

"Just the one. Gringotts. Run by goblins."

Hiccup dropped the bit of sausage he was holding.

"Goblins?"

"Yeah - so yeh'd be mad ter try an' rob it, I'll tell yeh that. Never mess with goblins, Hiccup. Gringotts is the safest place in the world fer anything yeh want ter keep safe - 'cept maybe Hogwarts. As a matter o' fact, I gotta visit Gringotts anyway. Fer Dumbledore. Hogwarts business." Mulch drew himself up proudly. "He usually gets me ter do important stuff fer him. Fetchin' you gettin' things from Gringotts - knows he can trust me, see.

"Got everythin'? Come on, then."

Hiccup followed Mulch out onto the rock. The sky was quite clear now and the sea gleamed in the sunlight. The boat Uncle Spitelout had hired was still there, with a lot of water in the bottom after the storm.

"How did you get here?" Hiccup asked, looking around for another boat.

"Flew," said Mulch.

"Flew?"

"Yeah - but we'll go back in this. Not s'pposed ter use magic now I've got yeh."

They settled down in the boat, Hiccup still staring at Mulch, trying to imagine him flying.

"Seems a shame ter row, though," said Mulch, giving Hiccup another of his sideways looks. "If I was ter - er - speed things up a bit, would yeh mind not mentionin' it at Hogwarts?"

"Of course not," said Hiccup, eager to see more magic. Mulch pulled out the pink umbrella again, tapped it twice on the side of the boat, and they sped off toward land.

"Why would you be mad to try and rob Gringotts?" Hiccup asked.

"Spells - enchantments," said Mulch, unfolding his newspaper as he spoke. "They say there's dragons guardin' the highsecurity vaults. And then yeh gotta find yer way - Gringotts is hundreds of miles under London, see. Deep under the Underground. Yeh'd die of hunger tryin' ter get out, even if yeh did manage ter get yer hands on summat."

Hiccup sat and thought about this while Mulch read his newspaper, the Daily Prophet. Hiccup had learned from Uncle Spitelout that people liked to be left alone while they did this, but it was very difficult, he'd never had so many questions in his life.

"Ministry o' Magic messin' things up as usual," Mulch muttered, turning the page.

"There's a Ministry of Magic?" Hiccup asked, before he could stop himself.

"'Course," said Hagrid. "They wanted Thor fer Minister, 0 ' course, but he'd never leave Hogwarts, so old Cornelius Fudge got the job. Bungler if ever there was one. So he pelts Thor with owls every morning, askin' fer advice."

"But what does a Ministry of Magic do?"

"Well, their main job is to keep it from the Muggles that there's still witches an' wizards up an' down the country."

"Why?"

"Why? Blimey, Hiccup, everyone'd be wantin' magic solutions to their problems. Nah, we're best left alone."

At this moment the boat bumped gently into the harbor wall. Mulch folded up his newspaper, and they clambered up the stone steps onto the street.

Passersby stared a lot at Mulch as they walked through the little town to the station. Hiccup couldn't blame them. Not only was Mulch twice as tall as anyone else, he kept pointing at perfectly ordinary things like parking meters and saying loudly, "See that, Hiccup? Things these Muggles dream up, eh?"

"Mulch," said Hiccup, panting a bit as he ran to keep up, "did you say there are dragons at Gringotts?"

"Well, so they say," said Mulch. "Crikey, I'd like a dragon."

"You'd like one?"

"Wanted one ever since I was a kid - here we go."

They had reached the station. There was a train to London in five minutes' time. Mulch, who didn't understand "Muggle money," as he called it, gave the bills to Hiccup so he could buy their tickets. People stared more than ever on the train. Mulch took up two seats and sat knitting what looked like a canary-yellow circus tent.

"Still got yer letter, Hiccup?" he asked as he counted stitches. Hiccup took the parchment envelope out of his pocket.

"Good," said Mulch. "There's a list there of everything yeh need." Hiccup unfolded a second piece of paper he hadn't noticed the night before, and read:

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

UNIFORM

First-year students will require:

1. Three sets of plain work robes (black)

2. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear

3. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)

4. One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)

Please note that all pupils' clothes should carry name tags

COURSE BOOKS

All students should have a copy of each of the following:

The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk

A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot

Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling

A Beginners' Guide to Transfiguration by Emetic Switch

One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore

Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger

Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander

The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble

OTHER EQUIPMENT

wand cauldron (pewter, standard size 2) set

glass or crystal phials

telescope set

brass scales

Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad

PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED

THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS

"Can we buy all this in London?" Hiccup wondered aloud.

"If yeh know where to go," said Mulch.

Hiccup had never been to London before. Although Mulch seemed to know where he was going, he was obviously not used to getting there in an ordinary way. He got stuck in the ticket barrier on the Underground, and complained loudly that the seats were too small and the trains too slow.

"I don't know how the Muggles manage without magic," he said as they climbed a broken-down escalator that led up to a bustling road lined with shops.

Mulch was so huge that he parted the crowd easily; all Hiccup had to do was keep close behind him. They passed book shops and music stores, hamburger restaurants and cinemas, but nowhere that looked as if it could sell you a magic wand. This was just an ordinary street full of ordinary people. Could there really be piles of wizard gold buried miles beneath them? Were there really shops that sold spell books and broomsticks? Might this not all be some huge joke that the Jorgensons had cooked up? If Hiccup hadn't known that the Dursleys had no sense of humor, he might have thought so; yet somehow, even though everything Mulch had told him so far was unbelievable, Hiccup couldn't help trusting him.

"This is it," said Mulch, coming to a halt, "the Leaky Cauldron. It's a famous place."

It was a tiny, grubby-looking pub. If Mulch hadn't pointed it out, Hiccup wouldn't have noticed it was there. The people hurrying by didn't glance at it. Their eyes slid from the big book shop on one side to the record shop on the other as if they couldn't see the Leaky Cauldron at all. In fact, Hiccup had the most peculiar feeling that only he and Mulch could see it. Before he could mention this, Mulch had steered him inside.

For a famous place, it was very dark and shabby. A few old women were sitting in a corner, drinking tiny glasses of sherry. One of them was smoking a long pipe. A little man in a top hat was talking to the old bartender, who was quite bald and looked like a toothless walnut. The low buzz of chatter stopped when they walked in. Everyone seemed to know Mulch; they waved and smiled at him, and the bartender reached for a glass, saying, "The usual, Mulch?"

"Can't, Tom, I'm on Hogwarts business," said Mulch, clapping his great hand on Hiccup's shoulder and making Hiccup's knees buckle.

"Good Lord," said the bartender, peering at Hiccup, "is this - can this be -?"

The Leaky Cauldron had suddenly gone completely still and silent.

"Bless my soul," whispered the old bartender, "Hiccup Haddock... what an honor."

He hurried out from behind the bar, rushed toward Hiccup and seized his hand, tears in his eyes.

"Welcome back, Mr. Haddock, welcome back."

Hiccup didn't know what to say. Everyone was looking at him. The old woman with the pipe was puffing on it without realizing it had gone out. Mulch was beaming.

Then there was a great scraping of chairs and the next moment, Hiccup found himself shaking hands with everyone in the Leaky Cauldron.

"Doris Crockford, Mr. Haddock, can't believe I'm meeting you at last."

"So proud, Mr. Haddock, I'm just so proud."

"Always wanted to shake your hand - I'm all of a flutter."

"Delighted, Mr. Haddock, just can't tell you, Diggle's the name, Dedalus Diggle."

"I've seen you before!" said Hiccup, as Dedalus Diggle's top hat fell off in his excitement. "You bowed to me once in a shop."

"He remembers!" cried Dedalus Diggle, looking around at everyone. "Did you hear that? He remembers me!" Hiccup shook hands again and again - Doris Crockford kept coming back for more.

A pale young man made his way forward, very nervously. One of his eyes was twitching.

"Professor Quirrell!" said Mulch. "Hiccup, Professor Quirrell will be one of your teachers at Hogwarts."

"H-H-Haddock," stammered Professor Quirrell, grasping Hiccup's hand,

"c-can't t-tell you how p- pleased I am to meet you."

"What sort of magic do you teach, Professor Quirrell?"

"D-Defense Against the D-D-Dark Arts," muttered Professor Quirrell, as though he'd rather not think about it. "N-not that you n-need it, eh, H-H-Haddock?" He laughed nervously. "You'll be g-getting all your equipment, I suppose? I've g-got to p-pick up a new b-book on vampires, m-myself." He looked terrified at the very thought.

But the others wouldn't let Professor Quirrell keep Hiccup to himself. It took almost ten minutes to get away from them all. At last, Mulch managed to make himself heard over the babble.

"Must get on - lots ter buy. Come on, Hiccup."

Doris Crockford shook Hiccup's hand one last time, and Mulch led them through the bar and out into a small, walled courtyard, where there was nothing but a trash can and a few weeds.

Mulch grinned at Hiccup.

"Told yeh, didn't I? Told yeh you was famous. Even Professor Quirrell was tremblin' ter meet yeh - mind you, he's usually tremblin'."

"Is he always that nervous?"

"Oh, yeah. Poor bloke. Brilliant mind. He was fine while he was studyin' outta books but then he took a year off ter get some firsthand experience... They say he met vampires in the Black Forest, and there was a nasty bit o' trouble with a hag - never been the same since. Scared of the students, scared of his own subject now, where's me umbrella?"

Vampires? Hags? Hiccup's head was swimming. Mulch, meanwhile, was counting bricks in the wall above the trash can.

"Three up... two across he muttered. "Right, stand back, Hiccup."

He tapped the wall three times with the point of his umbrella.

The brick he had touched quivered - it wriggled - in the middle, a small hole appeared - it grew wider and wider - a second later they were facing an archway large enough even for Mulch, an archway onto a cobbled street that twisted and turned out of sight.

"Welcome," said Mulch, "to Diagon Alley."

He grinned at Harry's amazement. They stepped through the archway. Hiccup looked quickly over his shoulder and saw the archway shrink instantly back into solid wall.

The sun shone brightly on a stack of cauldrons outside the nearest shop. Cauldrons - All Sizes - Copper, Brass, Pewter, Silver - Self-Stirring - Collapsible, said a sign hanging over them.

"Yeah, you'll be needin' one," said Mulch, "but we gotta get yer money first."

Hiccup wished he had about eight more eyes. He turned his head in every direction as they walked up the street, trying to look at everything at once: the shops, the things outside them, the people doing their shopping. A plump woman outside an Apothecary was shaking her head as they passed, saying, "Dragon liver, seventeen Sickles an ounce, they're mad..."

A low, soft hooting came from a dark shop with a sign saying Eeylops Owl Emporium - Tawny, Screech, Barn, Brown, and Snowy. Several boys of about Hiccup's age had their noses pressed against a window with broomsticks in it. "Look," Hiccup heard one of them say, "the new Nimbus Two Thousand - fastest ever -" There were shops selling robes, shops selling telescopes and strange silver instruments Hiccup had never seen before, windows stacked with barrels of bat spleens and eels' eyes, tottering piles of spell books, quills, and rolls of parchment, potion bottles, globes of the moon...

"Gringotts," said Mulch.

They had reached a snowy white building that towered over the other little shops. Standing beside its burnished bronze doors, wearing a uniform of scarlet and gold, was -

"Yeah, that's a goblin," said Mulch quietly as they walked up the white stone steps toward him. The goblin was about a head shorter than Hiccup.

He had a swarthy, clever face, a pointed beard and, Hiccup noticed, very long fingers and feet. He bowed as they walked inside. Now they were facing a second pair of doors, silver this time, with words engraved upon them:

Enter, stranger, but take heed

Of what awaits the sin of greed,

For those who take, but do not earn,

Must pay most dearly in their turn.

So if you seek beneath our floors

A treasure that was never yours,

Thief, you have been warned, beware

Of finding more than treasure there.

"Like I said, Yeh'd be mad ter try an' rob it," said Mulch.

A pair of goblins bowed them through the silver doors and they were in a vast marble hall. About a hundred more goblins were sitting on high stools behind a long counter, scribbling in large ledgers, weighing coins in brass scales, examining precious stones through eyeglasses. There were too many doors to count leading off the hall, and yet more goblins were showing people in and out of these. Mulch and Hiccup made for the counter.

"Morning," said Mulch to a free goblin. "We've come ter take some money outta Mr. Hiccup Haddock's safe."

"You have his key, Sir?"

"Got it here somewhere," said Mulch, and he started emptying his pockets onto the counter, scattering a handful of moldy dog biscuits over the goblin's book of numbers. The goblin wrinkled his nose. Hiccup watched the goblin on their right weighing a pile of rubies as big as glowing coals.

"Got it," said Mulch at last, holding up a tiny golden key.

The goblin looked at it closely.

"That seems to be in order."

"An' I've also got a letter here from Professor Thor," said Mulch importantly, throwing out his chest. "It's about the YouKnow-What in vault seven hundred and thirteen."

The goblin read the letter carefully.

"Very well," he said, handing it back to Mulch, "I will have Someone take you down to both vaults. Griphook!"

Griphook was yet another goblin. Once Mulch had crammed all the dog biscuits back inside his pockets, he and Hiccup followed Griphook toward one of the doors leading off the hall.

"What's the You-Know-What in vault seven hundred and thirteen?" Hiccup asked.

"Can't tell yeh that," said Mulch mysteriously. "Very secret. Hogwarts business. Thor's trusted me. More'n my job's worth ter tell yeh that."

Griphook held the door open for them. Hiccup, who had expected more marble, was surprised. They were in a narrow stone passageway lit with flaming torches. It sloped steeply downward and there were little railway tracks on the floor. Griphook whistled and a small cart came hurtling up the tracks toward them. They climbed in - Mulch with some difficulty - and were off.

At first they just hurtled through a maze of twisting passages. Hiccup tried to remember, left, right, right, left, middle fork, right, left, but it was impossible. The rattling cart seemed to know its own way, because Griphook wasn't steering.

Hiccup's eyes stung as the cold air rushed past them, but he kept them wide open. Once, he thought he saw a burst of fire at the end of a passage and twisted around to see if it was a dragon, but too late - - they plunged even deeper, passing an underground lake where huge stalactites and stalagmites grew from the ceiling and floor.

I never know," Hiccup called to Mulch over the noise of the cart,

"what's the difference between a stalagmite and a stalactite?"

"Stalagmite's got an 'm' in it," said Hagrid. "An' don' ask me questions just now, I think I'm gonna be sick."

He did look very green, and when the cart stopped at last beside a small door in the passage wall, Mulch got out and had to lean against the wall to stop his knees from trembling.

Griphook unlocked the door. A lot of green smoke came billowing out, and as it cleared, Hiccup gasped. Inside were mounds of gold coins. Columns of silver. Heaps of little bronze Knuts.

"All yours," smiled Mulch.

All Hiccup's - it was incredible. The Jorgensons couldn't have known about this or they'd have had it from him faster than blinking. How often had they complained how much Hiccup cost them to keep? And all the time there had been a small fortune belonging to him, buried deep under London. Mulch helped Hiccup pile some of it into a bag.

"The gold ones are Galleons," he explained. "Seventeen silver Sickles to a Galleon and twenty-nine Knuts to a Sickle, it's easy enough. Right, that should be enough fer a couple o' terms, we'll keep the rest safe for yeh." He turned to Griphook. "Vault seven hundred and thirteen now, please, and can we go more slowly?"

"One speed only," said Griphook.

They were going even deeper now and gathering speed. The air became colder and colder as they hurtled round tight corners. They went rattling over an underground ravine, and Hiccup leaned over the side to try to see what was down at the dark bottom, but Mulch groaned and pulled him back by the scruff of his neck.

Vault seven hundred and thirteen had no keyhole.

"Stand back," said Griphook importantly. He stroked the door gently with one of his long fingers and it simply melted away.

"If anyone but a Gringotts goblin tried that, they'd be sucked through the door and trapped in there," said Griphook.

"How often do you check to see if anyone's inside?" Hiccup asked.

"About once every ten years," said Griphook with a rather nasty grin. Something really extraordinary had to be inside this top security vault, Hiccup was sure, and he leaned forward eagerly, expecting to see fabulous jewels at the very least - but at first he thought it was empty. Then he noticed a grubby little package wrapped up in brown paper lying on the floor. Mulch picked it up and tucked it deep inside his coat. Hiccup longed to know what it was, but knew better than to ask.

"Come on, back in this infernal cart, and don't talk to me on the way back, it's best if I keep me mouth shut," said Mulch.

One wild cart ride later they stood blinking in the sunlight outside Gringotts. Hiccup didn't know where to run first now that he had a bag full of money. He didn't have to know how many Galleons there were to a pound to know that he was holding more money than he'd had in his whole life - more money than even Snotlout had ever had.

"Might as well get yer uniform," said Hagrid, nodding toward Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. "Listen, Harry, would yeh mind if I slipped off fer a pick-me-up in the Leaky Cauldron? I hate them Gringotts carts." He did still look a bit sick, so Hiccup entered Madam Malkin's shop alone, feeling nervous.

Madam Malkin was a squat, smiling witch dressed all in mauve.

"Hogwarts, clear?" she said, when Hiccup started to speak. "Got the lot here - another young man being fitted up just now, in fact. "

In the back of the shop, a boy with a pale, pointed face was standing on a footstool while a second witch pinned up his long black robes. Madam Malkin stood Hiccup on a stool next to him) slipped a long robe over his head, and began to pin it to the right length.

"Hello," said the boy, "Hogwarts, too?"

"Yes," said Hiccup.

"My father's next door buying my books and mother's up the street looking at wands," said the boy. He had a bored, drawling voice. "Then I'm going to drag them off to took at racing brooms. I don't see why first years can't have their own. I think I'll bully father into getting me one and I'll smuggle it in somehow."

Hiccup was strongly reminded of Dudley.

"Have you got your own broom?" the boy went on.

"No," said Hiccup.

"Play Quidditch at all?"

"No," Hiccup said again, wondering what on earth Quidditch could be. "I do - Father says it's a crime if I'm not picked to play for my house, and I must say, I agree. Know what house you'll be in yet?"

"No," said Hiccup, feeling more stupid by the minute.

"Well, no one really knows until they get there, do they, but I know I'll be in Slytherin, all our family have been - imagine being in Hufflepuff, I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?" "Mmm," said Hiccup, wishing he could say something a bit more interesting.

"I say, look at that man!" said the boy suddenly, nodding toward the front window. Mulch was standing there, grinning at Hiccup and pointing at two large ice creams to show he couldn't come in.

"That's Mulch," said Hiccup, pleased to know something the boy didn't.

"He works at Hogwarts."

"Oh," said the boy, "I've heard of him. He's a sort of servant, isn't he?"

"He's the gamekeeper," said Hiccup. He was liking the boy less and less every second.

"Yes, exactly. I heard he's a sort of savage - lives in a hut on the school grounds and every now and then he gets drunk, tries to do magic, and ends up setting fire to his bed."

"I think he's brilliant," said Hiccup coldly.

"Do you?" said the boy, with a slight sneer. "Why is he with you? Where are your parents?"

"They're dead," said Hiccup shortly. He didn't feel much like going into the matter with this boy.

"Oh, sorry," said the other,. not sounding sorry at all. "But they were our kind, weren't they?"

"They were a witch and wizard, if that's what you mean."

"I really don't think they should let the other sort in, do you? They're just not the same, they've never been brought up to know our ways. Some of them have never even heard of Hogwarts until they get the letter, imagine. I think they should keep it in the old wizarding families. What's your surname, anyway?"

But before Hiccup could answer, Madam Malkin said, "That's you done, my dear," and Hiccup, not sorry for an excuse to stop talking to the boy, hopped down from the footstool.

"Well, I'll see you at Hogwarts, I suppose," said the drawling boy.

Hiccup was rather quiet as he ate the ice cream Mulch had bought him (chocolate and raspberry with chopped nuts).

"What's up?" said Mulch.

"Nothing," Hiccup lied. They stopped to buy parchment and quills. Hiccup cheered up a bit when he found a bottle of ink that changed color as you wrote. When they had left the shop, he said, "Mulch, what's Quidditch?"

"Blimey, Hiccup, I keep forgettin' how little yeh know - not knowin' about Quidditch!"

"Don't make me feel worse," said Hiccup. He told Mulch about the pate boy in Madam Malkin's.

"-and he said people from Muggle families shouldn't even be allowed in."

"Yer not from a Muggle family. If he'd known who yeh were - he's grown up knowin' yer name if his parents are wizardin' folk. You saw what everyone in the Leaky Cauldron was like when they saw yeh. Anyway, what does he know about it, some o' the best I ever saw were the only ones with magic in 'em in a long line 0' Muggles - look at yer mum! Look what she had fer a sister!"

"So what is Quidditch?"

"It's our sport. Wizard sport. It's like - like soccer in the Muggle world - everyone follows Quidditch - played up in the air on broomsticks and there's four balls - sorta hard ter explain the rules."

"And what are Slytherin and Hufflepuff?"

"School houses. There's four. Everyone says Hufflepuff are a lot o' duffers, but -"

"I bet I'm in Hufflepuff" said Hiccup gloomily.

"Better Hufflepuff than Slytherin," said Mulch darkly. "There's not a single witch or wizard who went bad who wasn't in Slytherin. You-Know-Who was one."

"Dra-, sorry - You-Know-Who was at Hogwarts?"

"Years an' years ago," said Mulch.

They bought Hiccup's school books in a shop called Flourish and Blotts where the shelves were stacked to the ceiling with books as large as paving stones bound in leather; books the size of postage stamps in covers of silk; books full of peculiar symbols and a few books with nothing in them at all. Even Snotlout, who never read anything, would have been wild to get his hands on some of these. Mulch almost had to drag Hiccup away from Curses and Countercurses (Bewitch Your Friends and Befuddle Your Enemies with the Latest Revenges: Hair Loss, Jelly-Legs, Tongue- Tying and Much, Much More) by Professor Vindictus Viridian.

"I was trying to find out how to curse Snotlout."

"I'm not sayin' that's not a good idea, but yer not ter use magic in the Muggle world except in very special circumstances," said Mulch. "An' anyway, yeh couldn' work any of them curses yet, yeh'll need a lot more study before yeh get ter that level."

Mulch wouldn't let Hiccup buy a solid gold cauldron, either ("It says pewter on yer list"), but they got a nice set of scales for weighing potion ingredients and a collapsible brass telescope. Then they visited the Apothecary, which was fascinating enough to make up for its horrible smell, a mixture of bad eggs and rotted cabbages. Barrels of slimy stuff stood on the floor; jars of herbs, dried roots, and bright powders lined the walls; bundles of feathers, strings of fangs, and snarled claws hung from the ceiling. While Mulch asked the man behind the counter for a supply of some basic potion ingredients for Hiccup, Hiccup himself examined silver unicorn horns at twenty-one Galleons each and minuscule, glittery-black beetle eyes (five Knuts a scoop).

Outside the Apothecary, Mulch checked Hiccup's list again.

"Just yer wand left - A yeah, an' I still haven't got yeh a birthday present."

Hiccup felt himself go red.

"You don't have to -"

"I know I don't have to. Tell yeh what, I'll get yer animal. Not a toad, toads went outta fashion years ago, yeh'd be laughed at - an' I don' like cats, they make me sneeze. I'll get yer an owl. All the kids want owls, they're dead useful, carry yer mail an' everythin'."

Twenty minutes later, they left Eeylops Owl Emporium, which had been dark and full of rustling and flickering, jewel-bright eyes. Hiccup now carried a large cage that held a beautiful midnight owl, fast asleep with his head under his wing. He couldn't stop stammering his thanks, sounding just like Professor Quirrell.

"Don' mention it," said Mulch gruffly. "Don' expect you've had a lotta presents from them Jorgensons. Just Ollivanders left now - only place fer wands, Gobbers, and yeh gotta have the best wand."

A magic wand... this was what Hiccup had been really looking forward to. The last shop was narrow and shabby. Peeling gold letters over the door read Gobbers: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C. A single wand lay on a faded purple cushion in the dusty window.

A tinkling bell rang somewhere in the depths of the shop as they stepped inside. It was a tiny place, empty except for a single, spindly chair that Mulch sat on to wait. Hiccup felt strangely as though he had entered a very strict library; he swallowed a lot of new questions that had just occurred to him and looked instead at the thousands of narrow boxes piled neatly right up to the ceiling. For some reason, the back of his neck prickled. The very dust and silence in here seemed to tingle with some secret magic.

"Good afternoon," said a soft voice. Hiccup jumped. Mulch must have jumped, too, because there was a loud crunching noise and he got quickly off the spindly chair.

An old man was standing before them, his wide, pale eyes shining like moons through the gloom of the shop.

"Hello," said Hiccup awkwardly.

"Ah yes," said the man. "Yes, yes. I thought I'd be seeing you soon. Hiccup Haddock." It wasn't a question. "You have your mother's eyes. It seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work."

Mr. Gobber moved closer to Hiccup. Hiccup wished he would blink. Those silvery eyes were a bit creepy.

"Your father, on the other hand, favored a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration. Well, I say your father favored it - it's really the wand that chooses the wizard, of course."

Mr. Gobber had come so close that he and Hiccup were almost nose to nose. Hiccup could see himself reflected in those misty eyes.

"And that's where..."

Mr. Gobber touched the lightning scar on Hiccup's forehead with a long, white finger.

"I'm sorry to say I sold the wand that did it," he said softly.

"Thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Powerful wand, very powerful, and in the wrong hands... well, if I'd known what that wand was going out into the world to do..."

He shook his head and then, to Hiccup's relief, spotted Mulch.

"Rubeus! Rubeus Mulch! How nice to see you again... Oak, sixteen inches, rather bendy, wasn't it?"

"It was, sir, yes," said Mulch.

"Good wand, that one. But I suppose they snapped it in half when you got expelled?" said Mr. Gobber, suddenly stern.

"Er - yes, they did, yes," said Mulch, shuffling his feet. "I've still got the pieces, though," he added brightly.

"But you don't use them?" said Mr. Gobber sharply.

"Oh, no, sit," said Mulch quickly. Hiccup noticed he gripped his pink umbrella very tightly as he spoke.

"Hmmm," said Mr. Gobber, giving Mulch a piercing look. "Well, now- Mr. Haddock. Let me see." He pulled a long tape measure with silver markings out of his pocket. "Which is your wand arm?"

"Er - well, I'm right-handed," said Hiccup.

"Hold out your arm. That's it." He measured Hiccup from shoulder to finger, then wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit and round his head. As he measured, he said, "Every Gobber wand has a core of a powerful magical substance, Mr. Haddock. We use unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers, and the heartstrings of dragons. No two Gobber wands are the same, just as no two unicorns, dragons, or phoenixes are quite the same. And of course, you will never get such good results with another wizard's wand."

Hiccup suddenly realized that the tape measure, which was measuring between his nostrils, was doing this on its own. Mr. Gobber was flitting around the shelves, taking down boxes.

"That will do," he said, and the tape measure crumpled into a heap on the floor. "Right then, Mr. Haddock. Try this one. Beechwood and dragon heartstring. Nine inches. Nice and flexible. just take it and give it a wave."

Hiccup took the wand and (feeling foolish) waved it around a bit, but Mr. Gobber snatched it out of his hand almost at once.

"Maple and phoenix feather. Seven inches. Quite whippy. Try -"

Hiccup tried - but he had hardly raised the wand when it, too, was snatched back by Mr. Gobber.

"No, no -here, ebony and unicorn hair, eight and a half inches, springy. Go on, go on, try it out."

Hiccup tried. And tried. He had no idea what Mr. Gobber was waiting for. The pile of tried wands was mounting higher and higher on the spindly chair, but the more wands Mr. Gobber pulled from the shelves, the happier he seemed to become.

"Tricky customer, eh? Not to worry, we'll find the perfect match here somewhere - I wonder, now - - yes, why not - unusual combination -holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple."

Hiccup took the wand. He felt a sudden warmth in his fingers. He raised the wand above his head, brought it swishing down through the dusty air and a stream of red and gold sparks shot from the end like a firework, throwing dancing spots of light on to the walls. Mulch whooped and clapped and Mr. Gobber cried, "Oh, bravo! Yes, indeed, oh, very good. Well, well, well... how curious... how very curious... "

He put Hiccup's wand back into its box and wrapped it in brown paper, still muttering, "Curious... curious..

"Sorry," said Hiccup, "but what's curious?"

Mr. Gobber fixed Harry with his pale stare.

"I remember every wand I've ever sold, Mr. Haddock. Every single wand. It so happens that the phoenix whose tail feather is in your wand, gave another feather - just one other. It is very curious indeed that you should be destined for this wand when its brother why, its brother gave you that scar."

Hiccup swallowed.

"Yes, thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Curious indeed how these things happen. The wand chooses the wizard, remember... I think we must expect great things from you, Mr. Haddock... After all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things - terrible, yes, but great."

Hiccup shivered. He wasn't sure he liked Mr. Gobber too much. He paid seven gold Galleons for his wand, and Mr. Gobber bowed them from his shop.

The late afternoon sun hung low in the sky as Hiccup and Mulch made their way back down Diagon Alley, back through the wall, back through the Leaky Cauldron, now empty. Hiccup didn't speak at all as they walked down the road; he didn't even notice how much people were gawking at them on the Underground, laden as they were with all their funny-shaped packages, with the midnight owl asleep in its cage on Hiccup's lap. Up another escalator, out into Paddington station; Harry only realized where they were when Mulch tapped him on the shoulder.

"Got time fer a bite to eat before yer train leaves," he said. He bought Hiccup a hamburger and they sat down on plastic seats to eat them. Hiccup kept looking around. Everything looked so strange, somehow.

"You all right, Harry? Yer very quiet," said Mulch.

Hiccup wasn't sure he could explain. He'd just had the best birthday of his life - and yet - he chewed his hamburger, trying to find the words.

"Everyone thinks I'm special," he said at last. "All those people in the Leaky Cauldron, Professor Quirrell, Mr. Ollivander... but I don't know anything about magic at all. How can they expect great things? I'm famous and I can't even remember what I'm famous for. I don't know what happened when Dra-, sorry - I mean, the night my parents died." Mulch leaned across the table. Behind the wild beard and eyebrows he wore a very kind smile.

"Don' you worry, Hiccup. You'll learn fast enough. Everyone starts at the beginning at Hogwarts, you'll be just fine. just be yerself. I know it's hard. Yeh've been singled out, an' that's always hard. But yeh'll have a great time at Hogwarts - I did - still do, 'smatter of fact."

Mulch helped Hiccup on to the train that would take him back to the Jorgensons, then handed him an envelope.

"Yer ticket fer Hogwarts, " he said. "First o' September - King's Cross- it's all on yer ticket. Any problems with the Dursleys, send me a letter with yer owl, she'll know where to find me... See yeh soon, Hiccup."

The train pulled out of the station. Hiccup wanted to watch Mulch until he was out of sight; he rose in his seat and pressed his nose against the window, but he blinked and Mulch had gone

**I made Gobber skinny, he both his hands and foot, he no one missing teeth, no mustache and no beard and made him an old man**

**Toothless is a midnight owl and just like his dragon counterpart, his owl counterpart has no teeth also**

**Hiccup just meet the viking type Draco Malfoy "Valence Malfoy"**


	8. Recast of Hiccup Haddock series characte

**Recast of Hiccup Haddock series characters**

Hiccup Haddock Harry Potter

Camicazi Hermione Granger

Astrid Hofferson Ginny Weasley

Fishlegs Ingerman Ron Weasley

Snotlout Jorgenson Dudley Dursley

Valence Draco Malfoy OC

Toothless Hedwig

Stoick Haddock James Potter/Prongs

Freda Jorgenson Petunia Dursley

Valka Haddock Lily Potter

Sven Viktor Krum

Tuffnut Thorston Fred Weasley

Ruffnut Thorston George Weasley

Loki Cedric Diggory

Savage Peter Pettigrew/Wormtail

Trader Johan Remus Lupin/Moony

Finn Hofferson Arthur Weasley

Big Boobied Bertha Madame Maxime

Freya Luna Lovegood

Stoick Eret Haddock James Sirius Potter

Thor Alvin Haddock Albus Severus Potter

Valka Freya Haddock Lily Luna Potter

Drake Neville Longbottom OC

Gobber Mr. Ollivander

Heather Fleur Delacour

Spitelout Jorgenson Vernon Dursley

Trista Hofferson Molly Weasley

Eret Sirius Black/Padfoot

Gustav Colin Creevey

Dagur Bellatrix Lestrange

Mildew Argus Filch

Thor Albus Dumbledore

Fungus the sheep Mrs. Norris

Mulch Hargid

Drago Bludvist Voldemort

Alvin Severus Snape

Gothi Minerva McGonagall

Bucket Professor Binns

Charlie Weasley OC

Bill Weasley OC

Percy Weasley OC

Oliver Wood OC

Opalay Saturday Cho Chang myself OC

Hoark Cornelius Fudge

Hugo Weasley OC

Rose Weasley OC

Spikes Crookshanks OC

Meatlug Scabbers

Hildegard Dennis Creevey

Adelaid Jorgenson Marge Dursley

Hookfang Ripper

Dean Thomas OC

Seamus Finnigan OC

Parvati Patil OC

Padma Patil OC

Gregory Goyle OC

Vincent Crabber OC

Lucius Malfoy OC

Narcissa Malfoy OC

**If you want to cast yourself as a character who was an OC next to them, private message me with an OC name and ill give you credit**


	9. The Journey From Platform Nine And Three

CHAPTER SIX

The Journey From Platform Nine And Three-Quarters

Hiccup's last month with the Jorgensons wasn't fun. True, Snotlout was now so scared of Hiccup he wouldn't stay in the same room, while Aunt Freda and Uncle Spitelout didn't shut Harry in his cupboard, force him to do anything, or shout at him - in fact, they didn't speak to him at all. Half terrified, half furious, they acted as though any chair with Hiccup in it were empty. Although this was an improvement in many ways, it did become a bit depressing after a while.

Hiccup kept to his room, with his new owl for company. He had decided to call him Toothless, a name he had found in A History of Magic. His school books were very interesting. He lay on his bed reading late into the night, Toothless swooping in and out of the open window as he pleased. It was lucky that Aunt Freda didn't come in to vacuum anymore, because Toothless kept bringing back dead mice. Every night before he went to sleep, Hiccup ticked off another day on the piece of paper he had pinned to the wall, counting down to September the first.

On the last day of August he thought he'd better speak to his aunt and uncle about getting to King's Cross station the next day, so he went down to the living room where they were watching a quiz show on television. He cleared his throat to let them know he was there, and Snotlout screamed and ran from the room.

"Er - Uncle Spitelout?"

Uncle Spitelout grunted to show he was listening.

"Er - I need to be at King's Cross tomorrow to - to go to Hogwarts."

Uncle Spitelout grunted again.

"Would it be all right if you gave me a lift?"

Grunt. Hiccup supposed that meant yes.

"Thank you."

He was about to go back upstairs when Uncle Spitelout actually spoke.

"Funny way to get to a wizards' school, the train. Magic carpets all got punctures, have they?"

Hiccup didn't say anything.

"Where is this school, anyway?"

"I don't know," said Hiccup, realizing this for the first time. He pulled the ticket Mulch had given him out of his pocket.

"I just take the train from platform nine and three-quarters at eleven o'clock," he read.

His aunt and uncle stared.

"Platform what?"

"Nine and three-quarters."

"Don't talk rubbish," said Uncle Spitelout. "There is no platform nine and three-quarters."

"It's on my ticket."

"Barking," said Uncle Spitelout, "howling mad, the lot of them. You'll see. You just wait. All right, we'll take you to King's Cross. We're going up to London tomorrow anyway, or I wouldn't bother."

"Why are you going to London?" Hiccup asked, trying to keep things friendly.

"Taking Snotlout to the hospital," growled Uncle Spitelout. "Got to have that ruddy tail removed before he goes to Smeltings."

Hiccup woke at five o'clock the next morning and was too excited and nervous to go back to sleep. He got up and pulled on his jeans because he didn't want to walk into the station in his wizard's robes - he'd change on the train. He checked his Hogwarts list yet again to make sure he had everything he needed, saw that Toothless was shut safely in his cage, and then paced the room, waiting for the Jorgensons to get up. Two hours later, Hiccup's huge, heavy trunk had been loaded into the Jorgensons' car, Aunt Freda had talked Snotlout into sitting next to Hiccup, and they had set off.

They reached King's Cross at half past ten. Uncle Spitelout dumped Hiccup's trunk onto a cart and wheeled it into the station for him. Hiccup thought this was strangely kind until Uncle Spitelout stopped dead, facing the platforms with a nasty grin on his face.

"Well, there you are, boy. Platform nine - platform ten. Your platform should be somewhere in the middle, but they don't seem to have built it yet, do they?"

He was quite right, of course. There was a big plastic number nine over one platform and a big plastic number ten over the one next to it, and in the middle, nothing at all.

"Have a good term," said Uncle Spitelout with an even nastier smile. He left without another word. Hiccup turned and saw the Jorgensons drive away. All three of them were laughing. Hiccup's mouth went rather dry. What on earth was he going to do? He was starting to attract a lot of funny looks, because of Toothless. He'd have to ask someone.

He stopped a passing guard, but didn't dare mention platform nine and three-quarters. The guard had never heard of Hogwarts and when Hiccup couldn't even tell him what part of the country it was in, he started to get annoyed, as though Hiccup was being stupid on purpose. Getting desperate, Hiccup asked for the train that left at eleven o'clock, but the guard said there wasn't one. In the end the guard strode away, muttering about time wasters. Hiccup was now trying hard not to panic.

According to the large clock over the arrivals board, he had ten minutes left to get on the train to Hogwarts and he had no idea how to do it; he was stranded in the middle of a station with a trunk he could hardly lift, a pocket full of wizard money, and a large owl.

Mulch must have forgotten to tell him something you had to do, like tapping the third brick on the left to get into Diagon Alley. He wondered if he should get out his wand and start tapping the ticket inspector's stand between platforms nine and ten.

At that moment a group of people passed just behind him and he caught a few words of what they were saying.

"- packed with Muggles, of course -"

Hiccup swung round. The speaker was a plump woman who was talking to four boys, all with flaming red hair. Each of them was pushing a trunk like Hiccup's in front of him - and they had an owl.

Heart hammering, Harry pushed his cart after them. They stopped and so did he, just near enough to hear what they were saying.

"Now, what's the platform number?" said the boys' mother.

"Nine and three-quarters!" piped a small girl, also red-headed, who was holding her hand, "Mom, can't I go... "

"You're not old enough, Astrid, now be quiet. All right, Trygve, you go first."

What looked like the oldest boy marched toward platforms nine and ten. Hiccup watched, careful not to blink in case he missed it - but just as the boy reached the dividing barrier between the two platforms, a large crowd of tourists came swarming in front of him and by the time the last backpack had cleared away, the boy had vanished. "Tuffnut, you next," the plump woman said.

"I'm not Tuffnut, I'm Ruffnut," said the boy. "Honestly, woman, you call yourself our mother? CarA you tell I'm Ruffnut?"

"Sorry, Ruffnut, dear."

"Only joking, I am Tuffnut," said the boy, and off he went. His twin called after him to hurry up, and he must have done so, because a second later, he had gone - but how had he done it?

Now the third brother was walking briskly toward the barrier he was almost there - and then, quite suddenly, he wasn't anywhere.

There was nothing else for it.

"Excuse me," Hiccup said to the plump woman.

"Hello, dear," she said. "First time at Hogwarts? Fishlegs's new, too."

She pointed at the last and youngest of her sons. He was tall, thin, and gangling, with freckles, big hands and feet, and a long nose.

"Yes," said Hiccup. "The thing is - the thing is, I don't know how to-"

"How to get onto the platform?" she said kindly, and Hiccup nodded.

"Not to worry," she said. "All you have to do is walk straight at the barrier between platforms nine and ten. Don't stop and don't be scared you'll crash into it, that's very important. Best do it at a bit of a run if you're nervous. Go on, go now before Ron."

"Er - okay," said Hiccup.

He pushed his trolley around and stared at the barrier. It looked very solid.

He started to walk toward it. People jostled him on their way to platforms nine and ten. Hiccup walked more quickly. He was going to smash right into that barrier and then he'd be in trouble - leaning forward on his cart, he broke into a heavy run - the barrier was coming nearer and nearer - he wouldn't be able to stop - the cart was out of control- he was a foot away - he closed his eyes ready for the crash -

It didn't come... he kept on running... he opened his eyes. A scarlet steam engine was waiting next to a platform packed with people. A sign overhead said Hogwarts Express, eleven O'clock. Hiccup looked behind him and saw a wrought-iron archway where the barrier had been, with the words Platform Nine and Three-Quarters on it, He had done it.

Smoke from the engine drifted over the heads of the chattering crowd, while cats of every color wound here and there between their legs. Owls hooted to one another in a disgruntled sort of way over the babble and the scraping of heavy trunks.

The first few carriages were already packed with students, some hanging out of the window to talk to their families, some fighting over seats. Hiccup pushed his cart off down the platform in search of an empty seat. He passed a round-faced boy who was saying, "Gran, I've lost my toad again."

"Oh, Drake," he heard the old woman sigh.

A boy with dreadlocks was surrounded by a small crowd.

"Give us a look, Lee, go on."

The boy lifted the lid of a box in his arms, and the people around him shrieked and yelled as something inside poked out a long, hairy leg.

Hiccup pressed on through the crowd until he found an empty compartment near the end of the train. He put Toothless inside first and then started to shove and heave his trunk toward the train door. He tried to lift it up the steps but could hardly raise one end and twice he dropped it painfully on his foot.

"Want a hand?" It was one of the red-haired twins he'd followed through the barrier.

"Yes, please," Hiccup panted.

"Oy, Tuffnut! C'mere and help!"

With the twins' help, Hiccup's trunk was at last tucked away in a corner of the compartment.

"Thanks," said Hiccup, pushing his sweaty hair out of his eyes.

lightning scar.

"Blimey," said the other twin. "Are you

"He is," said the first twin. "Aren't you?" he added to Hiccup.

"What?" said Hiccup.

"Hiccup Haddock, "chorused the twins.

"Oh, him," said Hiccup. "I mean, yes, I am."

The two boys gawked at him, and Hiccup felt himself turning red. Then, to his relief, a voice came floating in through the train's open door.

"Tuffnut? Ruffnut? Are you there?"

"Coming, Mom."

With a last look at Hiccup, the twins hopped off the train.

Huccup sat down next to the window where, half hidden, he could watch the red-haired family on the platform and hear what they were saying. Their mother had just taken out her handkerchief.

"Fishlegs, you've got something on your nose."

The youngest boy tried to jerk out of the way, but she grabbed him and began rubbing the end of his nose.

"Mom - geroff" He wriggled free.

"Aaah, has ickle Fishy got somefink on his nosie?" said one of the twins.

"Shut up," said Fishlegs.

"Where's Trygve?" said their mother.

"He's coming now."

The oldest boy came striding into sight. He had already changed into his billowing black Hogwarts robes, and Hiccup noticed a shiny silver badge on his chest with the letter P on it.

"Can't stay long, Mother," he said. "I'm up front, the prefects have got two compartments to themselves -"

"Oh, are you a prefect, Trygve ?" said one of the twins, with an air of great surprise. "You should have said something, we had no idea."

"Hang on, I think I remember him saying something about it," said the other twin. "Once -"

"Or twice -"

"A minute -"

"All summer -"

"Oh, shut up," said Trygve the Prefect.

"How come Trygve gets new robes, anyway?" said one of the twins.

"Because he's a prefect," said their mother fondly. "All right, dear, well, have a good term - send me an owl when you get there."

She kissed Trygve on the cheek and he left. Then she turned to the twins.

"Now, you two - this year, you behave yourselves. If I get one more owl telling me you've - you've blown up a toilet or -"

"Blown up a toilet? We've never blown up a toilet."

"Great idea though, thanks, Mom."

"It's not funny. And look after Fishlegs."

"Don't worry, ickle Fishyiekins is safe with us."

"Shut up," said Fishlegs again. He was almost as tall as the twins already and his nose was still pink where his mother had rubbed it.

"Hey, Mom, guess what? Guess who we just met on the train?"

Hiccup leaned back quickly so they couldn't see him looking.

"You know that black-haired boy who was near us in the station? Know who he is?"

"Who?"

"Hiccup Haddock!"

Hiccup heard the little girl's voice.

"Oh, Mom, can I go on the train and see him, Mom, eh please..."

"You've already seen him, Astrid, and the poor boy isn't something you goggle at in a zoo. Is he really, Tuffnut? How do you know?"

"Asked him. Saw his scar. It's really there - like lightning."

"Poor dear - no wonder he was alone, I wondered. He was ever so polite when he asked how to get onto the platform."

"Never mind that, do you think he remembers what You-Know-Who looks like?"

Their mother suddenly became very stern.

"I forbid you to ask him, Tuffnut. No, don't you dare. As though he needs reminding of that on his first day at school."

"All right, keep your hair on."

A whistle sounded.

"Hurry up!" their mother said, and the three boys clambered onto the train. They leaned out of the window for her to kiss them good-bye, and their younger sister began to cry.

"Don't, Astrid, we'll send you loads of owls."

"We'll send you a Hogwarts toilet seat."

"Ruffnut!"

"Only joking, Mom."

The train began to move. Hiccup saw the boys' mother waving and their sister, half laughing, half crying, running to keep up with the train until it gathered too much speed, then she fell back and waved.

Hiccup watched the girl and her mother disappear as the train rounded the corner. Houses flashed past the window. Hiccup felt a great leap of excitement. He didn't know what he was going to but it had to be better than what he was leaving behind.

The door of the compartment slid open and the youngest redheaded boy came in.

"Anyone sitting there?" he asked, pointing at the seat opposite Hiccup.

"Everywhere else is full."

Hiccup shook his head and the boy sat down. He glanced at Hiccup and then looked quickly out of the window, pretending he hadn't looked. Hiccup saw he still had a black mark on his nose.

"Hey, Fishlegs."

The twins were back.

"Listen, we're going down the middle of the train - Lee Jordan's got a giant tarantula down there."

"Right," mumbled Fishlegs.

"Hiccup," said the other twin, "did we introduce ourselves? Tuffnut and Ruffnut Hofferson. And this is Fishlegs, our brother. See you later, then.

"Bye," said Hiccup and Fishlegs. The twins slid the compartment door shut behind them.

"Are you really Hiccup Haddock?" Fishlegs blurted out.

Hiccup nodded.

"Oh -well, I thought it might be one of Tuffnut and Ruffnut's jokes," said Fishlegs. "And have you really got - you know..."

He pointed at Hiccup's forehead.

Hiccup pulled back his bangs to show the lightning scar. Fishlegs stared. "So that's where You-Know-Who

"Yes," said Hiccup, "but I can't remember it."

"Nothing?" said Fishlegs eagerly.

"Well - I remember a lot of green light, but nothing else."

"Wow," said Fishlegs. He sat and stared at Hiccup for a few moments, then, as though he had suddenly realized what he was doing, he looked quickly out of the window again.

"Are all your family wizards?" asked Hiccup, who found Fishlegs just as interesting as Fishlegs found him.

"Er - Yes, I think so," said Fishlegs. "I think Mom's got a second cousin who's an accountant, but we never talk about him."

"So you must know loads of magic already."

The Hoffersons were clearly one of those old wizarding families the pale boy in Diagon Alley had talked about.

"I heard you went to live with Muggles," said Fishlegs. "What are they like?"

"Horrible -well, not all of them. My aunt and uncle and cousin are, though. Wish I'd had three wizard brothers."

"Five," said Fishlegs. For some reason, he was looking gloomy. "I'm the sixth in our family to go to Hogwarts. You could say I've got a lot to live up to. Olav and Magnus have already left - Olav was head boy and Magnus was captain of Quidditch. Now Trygve's a prefect. Tuffnut and Ruffnut mess around a lot, but they still get really good marks and everyone thinks they're really funny. Everyone expects me to do as well as the others, but if I do, it's no big deal, because they did it first. You never get anything new, either, with five brothers. I've got Olav's old robes, Magnus's old wand, and Trygve's old rat."

Fishlegs reached inside his jacket and pulled out a fat gray rat, which was asleep.

"Her name's Meatlug and she's useless, she hardly ever wakes up. Trygve got an owl from my dad for being made a prefect, but they couldn't aff- I mean, I got Meatlug instead."

Fishlegs's ears went pink. He seemed to think he'd said too much, because he went back to staring out of the window.

Hiccup didn't think there was anything wrong with not being able to afford an owl. After all, he'd never had any money in his life until a month ago, and he told Ron so, all about having to wear Snotlout's old clothes and never getting proper birthday presents. This seemed to cheer Fishlegs up.

"... and until Hagrid told me, I didn't know anything about be ing a wizard or about my parents or Drago"

Fishlegs gasped.

"What?" said Hiccup.

"You said You-Know-Who's name!" said Fishlegs, sounding both shocked and impressed. "I'd have thought you, of all people -"

"I'm not trying to be brave or anything, saying the name," said Hiccup, I just never knew you shouldn't. See what I mean? I've got loads to learn... I bet," he added, voicing for the first time something that had been worrying him a lot lately, "I bet I'm the worst in the class." "You won't be. There's loads of people who come from Muggle families and they learn quick enough."

While they had been talking, the train had carried them out of London. Now they were speeding past fields full of cows and sheep. They were quiet for a time, watching the fields and lanes flick past.

Around half past twelve there was a great clattering outside in the corridor and a smiling, dimpled woman slid back their door and said, "Anything off the cart, dears?"

Hiccup, who hadn't had any breakfast, leapt to his feet, but Fishlegs's ears went pink again and he muttered that he'd brought sandwiches. Harry went out into the corridor.

He had never had any money for candy with the Jorgensons, and now that he had pockets rattling with gold and silver he was ready to buy as many Mars Bars as he could carry - but the woman didn't have Mars Bars. What she did have were Bettie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, Drooble's Best Blowing Gum, Chocolate Frogs. Pumpkin Pasties, Cauldron Cakes, Licorice Wands, and a number of other strange things Hiccup had never seen in his life. Not wanting to miss anything, he got some of everything and paid the woman eleven silver Sickles and seven bronze Knuts.

Fishlegs stared as Hiccup brought it all back in to the compartment and tipped it onto an empty seat.

"Hungry, are you?"

"Starving," said Hiccup, taking a large bite out of a pumpkin pasty. Fishlegs had taken out a lumpy package and unwrapped it. There were four sandwiches inside. He pulled one of them apart and said, "She always forgets I don't like corned beef."

"Swap you for one of these," said Hiccup, holding up a pasty. "Go on -" "You don't want this, it's all dry," said Fishlegs. "She hasn't got much time," he added quickly, "you know, with five of us."

"Go on, have a pasty," said Hiccup, who had never had anything to share before or, indeed, anyone to share it with. It was a nice feeling, sitting there with Fishlegs, eating their way through all Hiccup's pasties, cakes, and candies (the sandwiches lay forgotten).

"What are these?" Hiccup asked Fishlegs, holding up a pack of Chocolate Frogs. "They're not really frogs, are they?" He was starting to feel that nothing would surprise him.

"No," said Fishlegs. "But see what the card is. I'm missing Agrippa."

"What?"

"Oh, of course, you wouldn't know - Chocolate Frogs have cards, inside them, you know, to collect - famous witches and wizards. I've got about five hundred, but I haven't got Agrippa or Ptolemy."

Hiccup unwrapped his Chocolate Frog and picked up the card. It showed a man's face. He wore half- moon glasses, had a long, crooked nose, and flowing silver hair, beard, and mustache. Underneath the picture was the name Odin Thor.

"So this is Thor!" said Hiccup.

"Don't tell me you'd never heard of Thor!" said Fishlegs. "Can I have a frog? I might get Agrippa - thanks

Hiccup turned over his card and read:

ODIN THOR

CURRENTLY HEADMASTER OF HOGWARTS

Considered by many the greatest wizard of modern times, Thor is particularly famous for his defeat of the dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood, and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel. Professor Thor enjoys chamber music and tenpin bowling.

Hiccup turned the card back over and saw, to his astonishment, that Thor's face had disappeared.

"He's gone!"

"Well, you can't expect him to hang around all day," said Fishlegs. "He'll be back. No, I've got Morgana again and I've got about six of her... do you want it? You can start collecting."

Fishlegs's eyes strayed to the pile of Chocolate Frogs waiting to be unwrapped.

"Help yourself," said Hiccup. "But in, you know, the Muggle world, people just stay put in photos."

"Do they? What, they don't move at all?" Fishlegs sounded amazed. "weird!"

Hiccup stared as Thor sidled back into the picture on his card and gave him a small smile. Fishlegs was more interested in eating the frogs than looking at the Famous Witches and Wizards cards, but Hiccup couldn't keep his eyes off them. Soon he had not only Thor and Morgana, but Hengist of Woodcroft, Alberic Grunnion, Circe, Paracelsus, and Merlin.

He finally tore his eyes away from the druidess Cliodna, who was scratching her nose, to open a bag of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans.

"You want to be careful with those," Fishlegs warned Hiccup. "When they say every flavor, they mean every flavor - you know, you get all the ordinary ones like chocolate and peppermint and mar- malade, but then you can get spinach and liver and tripe. George reckons he had a boogerflavored one once."

Fishlegs picked up a green bean, looked at it carefully, and bit into a corner.

"Bleaaargh - see? Sprouts."

They had a good time eating the Every Flavor Beans. Hiccup got toast, coconut, baked bean, strawberry, curry, grass, coffee, sardine, and was even brave enough to nibble the end off a funny gray one Ron wouldn't touch, which turned out to be pepper.

The countryside now flying past the window was becoming wilder. The neat fields had gone. Now there were woods, twisting rivers, and dark green hills.

There was a knock on the door of their compartment and the round-faced boy Hiccup had passed on platform nine and threequarters came in. He looked tearful.

"Sorry," he said, "but have you seen a toad at all?"

When they shook their heads, he wailed, "I've lost him! He keeps getting away from me!"

"He'll turn up," said Hiccup.

"Yes," said the boy miserably. "Well, if you see him..."

He left.

"Don't know why he's so bothered," said Ron. "If I'd brought a toad I'd lose it as quick as I could. Mind you, I brought Meatlug, so I can't talk."

The rat was still snoozing on Fishlegs's lap.

"she might have died and you wouldn't know the difference," said Fishlegs in disgust. "I tried to turn him yellow yesterday to make him more interesting, but the spell didn't work. I'll show you, look..."

He rummaged around in his trunk and pulled out a very battered-looking wand. It was chipped in places and something white was glinting at the end.

"Unicorn hair's nearly poking out. Anyway

He had just raised his 'wand when the compartment door slid open again. The toadless boy was back, but this time he had a girl with him. She was already wearing her new Hogwarts robes.

"Has anyone seen a toad? Drake's lost one," she said. She had a bossy sort of voice, lots of bushy brown hair, and rather large front teeth.

"We've already told him we haven't seen it," said Fishlegs, but the girl wasn't listening, she was looking at the wand in his hand.

"Oh, are you doing magic? Let's see it, then."

She sat down. Fishlegs looked taken aback.

"Er - all right."

He cleared his throat.

"Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow, Turn this stupid, fat rat yellow."

He waved his wand, but nothing happened. Meatlug stayed gray and fast asleep.

"Are you sure that's a real spell?" said the girl. "Well, it's not very good, is it? I've tried a few simple spells just for practice and it's all worked for me. Nobody in my family's magic at all, it was ever such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course, I mean, it's the very best school of witchcraft there is, I've heard -I've learned all our course books by heart, of course, I just hope it will be enough - I'm Camicazi Granger, by the way, who are you. She said all this very fast.

Hiccup looked at Fishlegs, and was relieved to see by his stunned face that he hadn't learned all the course books by heart either.

"I'm Fishlegs Hofferson," Fishlegs muttered.

"Hiccup Haddock," said Hiccup.

"Are you really?" said Camicazi. "I know all about you, of course - I got a few extra books. for background reading, and you're in Modern Magical History and The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century.

"Am I?" said Hiccup, feeling dazed.

"Goodness, didn't you know, I'd have found out everything I could if it was me," said Camicazi. "Do either of you know what house you'll be in? I've been asking around, and I hope I'm in Gryffindor, it sounds by far the best; I hear Thor himself was in it, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn't be too bad... Anyway, we'd better go and look for Drake's toad. You two had better change, you know, I expect we'll be there soon."

And she left, taking the toadless boy with her.

"Whatever house I'm in, I hope she's not in it," said Fishlegs. He threw his wand back into his trunk. "Stupid spell - Ruffnut gave it to me, bet he knew it was a dud."

"What house are your brothers in?" asked Hiccup.

"Gryffindor," said Fishlegs. Gloom seemed to be settling on him again. "Mom and Dad were in it, too. I don't know what they'll say if I'm not. I don't suppose Ravenclaw would be too bad, but imagine if they put me in Slytherin."

"That's the house Dra-, I mean, You-Know-Who was in?"

"Yeah," said Fishlegs. He flopped back into his seat, looking depressed.

"You know, I think the ends of Meatlug's whiskers are a bit lighter," said Hiccup, trying to take Fishlegs's mind off houses. "So what do your oldest brothers do now that they've left, anyway?"

Hiccup was wondering what a wizard did once he'd finished school. "Magnus's in Romania studying dragons, and Olav's in Africa doing something for Gringotts," said Fishlegs. "Did you hear about Gringotts? It's been all over the Daily Prophet, but I don't suppose you get that with the Muggles - someone tried to rob a high security vault."

Hiccup stared.

"Really? What happened to them?"

"Nothing, that's why it's such big news. They haven't been caught. My dad says it must've been a powerful Dark wizard to get round Gringotts, but they don't think they took anything, that's what's odd. 'Course, everyone gets scared when something like this happens in case You-Know-Who's behind it."

Hiccup turned this news over in his mind. He was starting to get a prickle of fear every time You- Know-Who was mentioned. He supposed this was all part of entering the magical world, but it had been a lot more comfortable saying "Drago" without worrying.

"What's your Quidditch team?" Fishlegs asked.

"Er - I don't know any," Hiccup confessed.

"What!" Fishlegs looked dumbfounded. "Oh, you wait, it's the best game in the world -" And he was off, explaining all about the four balls and the positions of the seven players, describing famous games he'd been to with his brothers and the broomstick he'd like to get if he had the money. He was just taking Hiccup through the finer points of the game when the compartment door slid open yet again, but it wasn't Drake the toadless boy, or Camicazi Granger this time.

Three boys entered, and Hiccup recognized the middle one at once: it was the pale boy from Madam Malkin's robe shop. He was looking at Hiccup with a lot more interest than he'd shown back in Diagon Alley.

"Is it true?" he said. "They're saying all down the train that Hiccup Haddock's in this compartment. So it's you, is it?"

"Yes," said Hiccup. He was looking at the other boys. Both of them were thickset and looked extremely mean. Standing on either side of the pale boy, they looked like bodyguards.

"Oh, this is Ivar and this is Gisle," said the pale boy carelessly, noticing where Hiccup was looking. "And my name's Malfoy, Valence Malfoy." Fishlegs gave a slight cough, which might have been hiding a snigget. Valence Malfoy looked at him.

"Think my name's funny, do you? No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Hoffersons have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford."

He turned back to Hiccup. "You'll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Haddock. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there."

He held out his hand to shake Hiccup's, but Hiccup didn't take it.

"I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks," he said coolly.

Valence Malfoy didn't go red, but a pink tinge appeared in his pale cheeks.

"I'd be careful if I were you, Haddock," he said slowly. "Unless you're a bit politer you'll go the same way as your parents. They didn't know what was good for them, either. You hang around with riffraff like the Hoffersons and that Mulch, and it'll rub off on you."

Both Hiccup and Fishlegs stood up.

"Say that again," Fishlegs said, his face as red as his hair.

"Oh, you're going to fight us, are you?" Malfoy sneered.

"Unless you get out now," said Hiccup, more bravely than he felt, because Ivar and Gisle were a lot bigger than him or Fishlegs.

"But we don't feet like leaving, do we, boys? We've eaten all our food and you still seem to have some."

Gisle reached toward the Chocolate Frogs next to Fishlegs - Fishlegs leapt forward, but before he'd so much as touched Gisle, Gisle let out a horrible yell.

Meatlug the rat was hanging off his finger, sharp little teeth sunk deep into Gisle's knuckle - Ivar and Malfoy backed away as Gisle swung Meatlug round and round, howling, and when Meatlug finally flew off and hit the window, all three of them disappeared at once. Perhaps they thought there were more rats lurking among the sweets, or perhaps they'd heard footsteps, because a second later, Camicazi Granger had come in.

"What has been going on?" she said, looking at the sweets all over the floor and Fishlegs picking up Meatlug by her tail.

I think he's been knocked out," Fishlegs said to Hiccup. He looked closer at Meatlug. "No - I don't believe it - she's gone back to sleep-"

And so he had.

"You've met Malfoy before?"

Hiccup explained about their meeting in Diagon Alley.

"I've heard of his family," said Fishlegs darkly. "They were some of the first to come back to our side after You-Know-Who disappeared. Said they'd been bewitched. My dad doesn't believe it. He says Malfoy's father didn't need an excuse to go over to the Dark Side." He turned to Camicazi. "Can we help you with something?"

"You'd better hurry up and put your robes on, I've just been up to the front to ask the conductor, and he says we're nearly there. You haven't been fighting, have you? You'll be in trouble before we even get there!"

"Meatlug has been fighting, not us," said Fishlegs, scowling at her. "Would you mind leaving while we change?"

"All right - I only came in here because people outside are behaving very childishly, racing up and down the corridors," said Camicazi in a sniffy voice. "And you've got dirt on your nose, by the way, did you know?"

Fishlegs glared at her as she left. Hiccup peered out of the window. It was getting dark. He could see mountains and forests under a deep purple sky. The train did seem to be slowing down.

He and Fishlegs took off their jackets and pulled on their long black robes. Fishlegs' were a bit short for him, you could see his sneakers underneath them.

A voice echoed through the train: "We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately."

Hiccup's stomach lurched with nerves and Fishlegs, he saw, looked pale under his freckles. They crammed their pockets with the last of the sweets and joined the crowd thronging the corridor.

The train slowed right down and finally stopped. People pushed their way toward the door and out on to a tiny, dark platform. Hiccup shivered in the cold night air. Then a lamp came bobbing over the heads of the students, and Hiccup heard a familiar voice: "Firs' years! Firs' years over here! All right there, Hiccup?"

Mulch's big hairy face beamed over the sea of heads.

"C'mon, follow me - any more firs' years? Mind yer step, now! Firs' years follow me!"

Slipping and stumbling, they followed Mulch down what seemed to be a steep, narrow path. It was so dark on either side of them that Hiccup thought there must be thick trees there. Nobody spoke much. Drake, the boy who kept losing his toad, sniffed once or twice.

"Ye' all get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," Mulch called over his shoulder, "jus' round this bend here."

There was a loud "Oooooh!"

The narrow path had opened suddenly onto the edge of a great black take. Perched atop a high mountain on the other side, its windows sparkling in the starry sky, was a vast castle with many turrets and towers.

"No more'n four to a boat!" Mulch called, pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore. Hiccup and Fishlegs were followed into their boat by Drake and Camcazi. "Everyone in?" shouted Mulch, who had a boat to himself. "Right then - FORWARD!"

And the fleet of little boats moved off all at once, gliding across the lake, which was as smooth as glass. Everyone was silent, staring up at the great castle overhead. It towered over them as they sailed nearer and nearer to the cliff on which it stood.

"Heads down!" yelled Mulch as the first boats reached the cliff; they all bent their heads and the little boats carried them through a curtain of ivy that hid a wide opening in the cliff face. They were carried along a dark tunnel, which seemed to be taking them right underneath the castle, until they reached a kind of underground harbor, where they clambered out onto rocks and pebbles.

"Oy, you there! Is this your toad?" said Mulch, who was checking the boats as people climbed out of them.

"Trevor!" cried Drake blissfully, holding out his hands. Then they clambered up a passageway in the rock after Mulch's lamp, coming out at last onto smooth, damp grass right in the shadow of the castle. They walked up a flight of stone steps and crowded around the huge, Oak front door.

"Everyone here? You there, still got yer toad?"

Mulch raised a gigantic fist and knocked three times on the castle door.

**Gisle plays Gregory Goyle as Gregory Gisle**

**Ivar play Vincent Crabbe as Vincent Ivar**

**Valence is Draco Malfoy as Valance Malfoy**

**The Hofferson family are red heads also instead of blonde**

**Olav plays Bill Weasley as Olav Weasley**

**Magnus plays Charlie Weasley as Magnus Weasley**

**Jonathan Atlas plays Seamus Finnigan made by johnnylee619**

**Trygve play Percy Weasley as Trygve Weasley**


	10. The Sorting Hat

CHAPTER SEVEN

The Sorting Hat

The door swung open at once. A tall, black-haired witch in emerald-green robes stood there. She had a very stern face and Hiccup's first thought was that this was not someone to cross.

"The firs' years, Professor Gothi," said Mulch.

"Thank you, Mulch. I will take them from here."

She pulled the door wide. The entrance hall was so big you could have fit the whole of the Jorgenson's house in it. The stone walls were lit with flaming torches like the ones at Gringotts, the ceiling was too high to make out, and a magnificent marble staircase facing them led to the upper floors.

They followed Professor Gothi across the flagged stone floor. Hiccup could hear the drone of hundreds of voices from a doorway to the right-the rest of the school must already be here - but Professor Gothi showed the first years into a small, empty chamber off the hall. They crowded in, standing rather closer together than they would usually have done, peering about nervously.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor Gothi. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room.

"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rulebreaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."

Her eyes lingered for a moment on Drake's cloak, which was fastened under his left ear, and on Fishlegs's smudged nose. Hiccup nervously tried to flatten his hair.

"I shall return when we are ready for you," said Professor Gothi.

"Please wait quietly."

She left the chamber. Hiccup swallowed.

"How exactly do they sort us into houses?" he asked Fishlegs.

"Some sort of test, I think. Tuffnut said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking."

Hiccup's heart gave a horrible jolt. A test? In front of the whole school? But he didn't know any magic yet - what on earth would he have to do? He hadn't expected something like this the moment they arrived. He looked around anxiously and saw that everyone else looked terrified, too. No one was talking much except Camicazi Granger, who was whispering very fast about all the spells she'd learned and wondering which one she'd need. Hiccup tried hard not to listen to her. He'd never been more nervous, never, not even when he'd had to take a school report home to the Jorgensons saying that he'd somehow turned his teacher's wig blue. He kept his eyes fixed on the door. Any second now, Professor Gothi would come back and lead him to his doom.

Then something happened that made him jump about a foot in the air -several people behind him screamed.

"What the -?"

He gasped. So did the people around him. About twenty ghosts had just streamed through the back wall. Pearly-white and slightly transparent, they glided across the room talking to one another and hardly glancing at the first years. They seemed to be arguing. What looked like a fat little monk was saying: "Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance -"

"My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost - I say, what are you all doing here?"

A ghost wearing a ruff and tights had suddenly noticed the first years. Nobody answered.

"New students!" said the Fat Friar, smiling around at them. "About to be Sorted, I suppose?"

A few people nodded mutely.

"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" said the Friar. "My old house, you know."

"Move along now," said a sharp voice. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start."

Professor Gothi had returned. One by one, the ghosts floated away through the opposite wall.

"Now, form a line," Professor Gothi told the first years, "and follow me."

Feeling oddly as though his legs had turned to lead, Hiccup got into line behind a boy with sandy hair, with Fishlegs behind him, and they walked out of the chamber, back across the hall, and through a pair of double doors into the Great Hall.

Hiccup had never even imagined such a strange and splendid place. It was lit by thousands and thousands of candles that were floating in midair over four long tables, where the rest of the students were sitting. These tables were laid with glittering golden plates and goblets. At the top of the hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting. Professor Gothi led the first years up here, so that they came to a halt in a line facing the other students, with the teachers behind them. The hundreds of faces staring at them looked like pale lanterns in the flickering candlelight. Dotted here and there among the students, the ghosts shone misty silver. Mainly to avoid all the staring eyes, Hiccup looked upward and saw a velvety black ceiling dotted with stars. He heard

Camicazi whisper, "Its bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in Hogwarts, A History."

Great Hall didn't simply open on to the heavens.

Hiccup quickly looked down again as Professor Gothi silently placed a four-legged stool in front of the first years. On top of the stool she put a pointed wizard's hat. This hat was patched and frayed and extremely dirty. Aunt Petunia wouldn't have let it in the house.

Maybe they had to try and get a rabbit out of it, Hiccup thought wildly, that seemed the sort of thing - noticing that everyone in the hall was now staring at the hat, he stared at it, too. For a few seconds, there was complete silence. Then the hat twitched. A rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth - and the hat began to sing:

"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,

But don't judge on what you see,

I'll eat myself if you can find

A smarter hat than me.

You can keep your bowlers black,

Your top hats sleek and tall,

For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat

And I can cap them all.

There's nothing hidden in your head

The Sorting Hat can't see,

So try me on and I will tell you

Where you ought to be.

You might belong in Gryffindor,

Where dwell the brave at heart,

Their daring, nerve, and chivalry Set Gryffindors apart;

You might belong in Hufflepuff,

Where they are just and loyal,

Those patient Hufflepuffis are true And unafraid of toil;

Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,

if you've a ready mind,

Where those of wit and learning,

Will always find their kind;

Or perhaps in Slytherin

You'll make your real friends,

Those cunning folk use any means

To achieve their ends.

So put me on! Don't be afraid!

And don't get in a flap!

You're in safe hands (though I have none)

For I'm a Thinking Cap!"

The whole hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song. It bowed to each of the four tables and then became quite still again. "So we've just got to try on the hat!" Fishlegs whispered to Hiccup. "I'll kill Tuffnut, he was going on about wrestling a troll."

Hiccup. smiled weakly. Yes, trying on the hat was a lot better than having to do a spell, but he did wish they could have tried it on without everyone watching. The hat seemed to be asking rather alot; Hiccup didn't feel brave or quick-witted or any of it at the moment. If only the hat had mentioned a house for people who felt a bit queasy, that would have been the one for him.

Professor Gothi now stepped forward holding a long roll of parchment.

"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said. "Abbott, Hannah!"

A pink-faced girl with blonde pigtails stumbled out of line, put on the hat, which fell right down over her eyes, and sat down. A moments pause-

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat.

The table on the right cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down at the Hufflepuff table. Hiccup saw the ghost of the Fat Friar waving merrily at her.

"Bones, Susan!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat again, and Susan scuttled off to sit next to Hannah.

"Boot, Terry!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

The table second from the left clapped this time; several Ravenclaws stood up to shake hands with Terry as he joined them.

" Brocklehurst, Mandy" went to Ravenclaw too, but "Brown, Lavender" became the first new Gryffindor, and the table on the far left exploded with cheers; Hiccup could see Fishlegs's twin siblings catcalling.

"Bulstrode, Millicent" then became a Slytherin. Perhaps it was Hiccup's imagination, after all he'd heard about Slytherin, but he thought they looked like an unpleasant lot. He was starting to feel definitely sick now. He remembered being picked for teams during gym at his old school. He had always been last to be chosen, not because he was no good, but because no one wanted Snotlout to think they liked him.

"Finch-Fletchley, Justin!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

others it took a little while to decide. "Atlas, Jonathan," the sandy-haired boy next to Hiccup in the line, sat on the stool for almost a whole minute before the hat declared him a Gryffindor.

"Granger, Camicazi!"

Camicazi almost ran to the stool and jammed the hat eagerly on her head. "GRYFFINDOR!" shouted the hat. Fishlegs groaned.

A horrible thought struck Hiccup, as horrible thoughts always do when you're very nervous. What if he wasn't chosen at all? What if he just sat there with the hat over his eyes for ages, until Professor Gothi jerked it off his head and said there had obviously been a mistake and he'd better get back on the train?

When Drake Longbottom, the boy who kept losing his toad, was called, he fell over on his way to the stool. The hat took a long time to decide with Drake. When it finally shouted, "GRYFFINDOR," Drake ran off still wearing it, and had to jog back amid gales of laughter to give it to "MacDougal, Morag."

Malfoy swaggered forward when his name was called and got his wish at once: the hat had barely touched his head when it screamed, "SLYTHERIN!" Malfoy went to join his friends Ivar and Gisle, looking pleased with himself.

There weren't many people left now. "Moon" "Nott" "Parkinson" then a pair of twin girls, "Patil" and "Patil" then "Perks, Sally-Anne" and then, at last - "Haddock, Hiccup!"

As Hiccup stepped forward, whispers suddenly broke out like little hissing fires all over the hall.

"Haddock, did she say?"

The Hiccup Haddock?"

The last thing Hiccup saw before the hat dropped over his eyes was the hall full of people craning to get a good look at him. Next second he was looking at the black inside of the hat. He waited.

Hmm," said a small voice in his ear. "Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either. There's talent, A my goodness, yes - and a nice thirst to prove yourself, now that's interesting...So where shall I put you?"

Hiccup gripped the edges of the stool and thought, Not Slytherin, not Slytherin.

"Not Slytherin, eh?" said the small voice. "Are you sure? You could be great, you know, it's all here in your head, and Slytherin will help you on the way to greatness, no doubt about that - no? Well, if you're sure - better be GRYFFINDOR!"

Hiccup heard the hat shout the last word to the whole hall. He took off the hat and walked shakily toward the Gryffindor table. He was so relieved to have been chosen and not put in Slytherin, he hardly noticed that he was getting the loudest cheer yet. Trygve the Prefect got up and shook his hand vigorously, while the Hofferson twins yelled, "We got Haddock! We got Haddock!" Hiccup sat down opposite the ghost in the ruff he'd seen earlier. The ghost patted his arm, giving Harry the sudden, horrible feeling he'd just plunged it into a bucket of ice-cold water. He could see the High Table properly now. At the end nearest him sat Mulch, who caught his eye and gave him the thumbs up. Hiccup grinned back. And there, in the center of the High Table, in a large gold chair, sat Odin Thor. Hiccup recognized him at once from the card he'd gotten out of the Chocolate Frog on the train. Thor's silver hair was the only thing in the whole hall that shone as brightly as the ghosts. Hiccup spotted Professor Quirtell, too, the nervous young man from the Leaky Cauldron. He was looking very peculiar in a large purple turban.

And now there were only three people left to be sorted. "Thomas, Dean," a Black boy even taller than Fishlegs, joined Hiccup at the Gryffindor table.

"Turpin, Lisa," became a Ravenclaw and then it was Fishlegs's turn. He was pale green by now. Hiccup crossed his fingers under the table and a second later the hat had shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!"

Hiccup clapped loudly with the rest as Fishlegs collapsed into the chair next to him.

"Well done, Fishlegs, excellent," said Trygve Hofferson Pompously across Hiccup as "Zabini, Blaise," was made a Slytherin. Professor Gothi rolled up her scroll and took the Sorting Hat away.

Hiccup looked down at his empty gold plate. He had only just realized how hungry he was. The pumpkin pasties seemed ages ago.

Odin Thor had gotten to his feet. He was beaming at the students, his arms opened wide, as if nothing could have pleased him more than to see them all there.

"Welcome," he said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!

"Thank you!"

He sat back down. Everybody clapped and cheered. Hiccup didn't know whether to laugh or not.

"Is he - a bit mad?" he asked Trygve uncertainly.

"Mad?" said Trygve airily. "He's a genius! Best wizard in the world! But he is a bit mad, yes. Potatoes, Hiccup?"

Hiccup's mouth fell open. The dishes in front of him were now piled with food. He had never seen so many things he liked to eat on one table: roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops and lamb chops, sausages, bacon and steak, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, fries, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, gravy, ketchup, and, for some strange reason, peppermint humbugs.

The Jorgensons had never exactly starved Hiccup, but he'd never been allowed to eat as much as he liked. Snotlout had always taken anything that Hiccup really wanted, even if It made him sick. Hiccup piled his plate with a bit of everything except the peppermints and began to eat. It was all delicious.

"That does look good," said the ghost in the ruff sadly, watching Hiccup cut up his steak,

"Can't you -?"

I haven't eaten for nearly four hundred years," said the ghost. "I don't need to, of course, but one does miss it. I don't think I've in troduced myself? Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington at your service. Resident ghost of Gryffindor Tower."

"I know who you are!" said Fishlegs suddenly. "My brothers told me about you- you're Nearly Headless Nick!"

"I would prefer you to call me Sir Nicholas de Mimsy -" the ghost began stiffly, but sandy-haired Jonathan Atlas interrupted.

"Nearly Headless? How can you be nearly headless?"

Sir Nicholas looked extremely miffed, as if their little chat wasn't going at all the way he wanted.

"Like this," he said irritably. He seized his left ear and pulled. His whole head swung off his neck and fell onto his shoulder as if it was on a hinge. Someone had obviously tried to behead him, but not done it properly. Looking pleased at the stunned looks on their faces, Nearly Headless Nick flipped his head back onto his neck, coughed, and said, "So - new Gryffindors! I hope you're going to help us win the house championship this year? Gryffindors have never gone so long without winning. Slytherins have got the cup six years in a row! The Bloody Baron's becoming almost unbearable - he's the Slytherin ghost."

Hiccup looked over at the Slytherin table and saw a horrible ghost sitting there, with blank staring eyes, a gaunt face, and robes stained with silver blood. He was right next to Malfoy who, Hiccup was pleased to see, didn't look too pleased with the seating arrangements.

"How did he get covered in blood?" asked Jonathan with great interest.

"I've never asked," said Nearly Headless Nick delicately.

When everyone had eaten as much as they could, the remains of the food faded from the plates, leaving them sparkling clean as before. A moment later the desserts appeared. Blocks of ice cream in every flavor you could think of, apple pies, treacle tarts, chocolate eclairs and jam doughnuts, trifle, strawberries, Jell-O, rice pudding - "

As Hiccup helped himself to a treacle tart, the talk turned to their families.

"I'm half-and-half," said Jonathan. "Me dad's a Muggle. Mom didn't tell him she was a witch 'til after they were married. Bit of a nasty shock for him."

The others laughed.

"What about you, Drake?" said Fishlegs.

"Well, my gran brought me up and she's a witch," said Drake, "but the family thought I was all- Muggle for ages. My Great Uncle Algie kept trying to catch me off my guard and force some magic out of me - he pushed me off the end of Blackpool pier once, I nearly drowned - but nothing happened until I was eight. Great Uncle Algie came round for dinner, and he was hanging me out of an upstairs window by the ankles when my Great Auntie Enid offered him a meringue and he accidentally let go. But I bounced - all the way down the garden and into the road. They were all really pleased, Gran was crying, she was so happy. And you should have seen their faces when I got in here - they thought I might not be magic enough to come, you see. Great Uncle Algie was so pleased he bought me my toad."

On Hiccup's other side, Trygve Hofferson and Camicazi were talking about lessons ("I do hope they start right away, there's so much to learn, I'm particularly interested in Transfiguration, you know, turning something into something else, of course, it's supposed to be very difficult-"; "You'll be starting small, just matches into needles and that sort of thing - ").

Hiccup, who was starting to feel warm and sleepy, looked up at the High Table again. Mulch was drinking deeply from his goblet. Professor Gothi was talking to Professor Thor. Professor Quirrell, in his absurd turban, was talking to a teacher with greasy black hair, a hooked nose, and sallow skin.

It happened very suddenly. The hook-nosed teacher looked past Quirrell's turban straight into Hiccup's eyes - and a sharp, hot pain shot across the scar on Hiccup's forehead.

"Ouch!" Hiccup clapped a hand to his head.

"What is it?" asked Trygve.

"N-nothing."

The pain had gone as quickly as it had come. Harder to shake off was the feeling Hiccup had gotten from the teacher's look - a feeling that he didn't like Hiccup at all.

"Who's that teacher talking to Professor Quirrell?" he asked Trygve.

"Oh, you know Quirrell already, do you? No wonder he's looking so nervous, that's Professor Alvin. He teaches Potions, but he doesn't want to - everyone knows he's after Quirrell's job. Knows an awful lot about the Dark Arts, Snape."

Hiccup watched Snape for a while, but Alvin didn't look at him again. At last, the desserts too disappeared, and Professor Thor got to his feet again. The hall fell silent.

"Ahern - just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you.

"First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well."

Thor's twinkling eyes flashed in the direction of the Hofferson twins.

"I have also been asked by Mr. Mildew, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors.

"Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch.

"And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

Hiccup laughed, but he was one of the few who did.

"He's not serious?" he muttered to Trygve.

"Must be," said Trygve, frowning at Thor. "It's odd, because he usually gives us a reason why we're not allowed to go somewhere - the forest's full of dangerous beasts, everyone knows that. I do think he might have told us prefects, at least."

"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" cried Thor. Hiccup noticed that the other teachers' smiles had become rather fixed.

Thor gave his wand a little flick, as if he was trying to get a fly off the end, and a long golden ribbon flew out of it, which rose high above the tables and twisted itself, snakelike, into words.

"Everyone pick their favorite tune," said Thor, "and off we go!" And the school bellowed:

"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,

Teach us something please,

Whether we be old and bald

Or young with scabby knees,

Our heads could do with filling

With some interesting stuff,

For now they're bare and full of air,

Dead flies and bits of fluff,

So teach us things worth knowing,

Bring back what we've forgot,

just do your best, we'll do the rest,

And learn until our brains all rot.

Everybody finished the song at different times. At last, only the Hofferson twins were left singing along to a very slow funeral march. Thor conducted their last few lines with his wand and when they had finished, he was one of those who clapped loudest.

"Ah, music," he said, wiping his eyes. "A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!"

The Gryffindor first years followed Trygve through the chattering crowds, out of the Great Hall, and up the marble staircase. Hiccup's legs were like lead again, but only because he was so tired and full of food. He was too sleepy even to be surprised that the people in the portraits along the corridors whispered and pointed as they passed, or that twice Trygve led them through doorways hidden behind sliding panels and hanging tapestries. They climbed more staircases, yawning and dragging their feet, and Hiccup was just wondering how much farther they had to go when they came to a sudden halt.

A bundle of walking sticks was floating in midair ahead of them, and as Trygve took a step toward them they started throwing themselves at him. "Peeves," Trygve whispered to the first years. "A poltergeist." He raised his voice, "Peeves - show yourself"

A loud, rude sound, like the air being let out of a balloon, answered. "Do you want me to go to the Bloody Baron?"

There was a pop, and a little man with wicked, dark eyes and a wide mouth appeared, floating cross- legged in the air, clutching the walking sticks.

"Oooooooh!" he said, with an evil cackle. "Ickle Firsties! What fun!" He swooped suddenly at them. They all ducked.

"Go away, Peeves, or the Baron'll hear about this, I mean it!" barked Trygve.

Peeves stuck out his tongue and vanished, dropping the walking sticks on Drake's head. They heard him zooming away, rattling coats of armor as he passed.

"You want to watch out for Peeves," said Trygve, as they set off again. "The Bloody Baron's the only one who can control him, he won't even listen to us prefects. Here we are."

At the very end of the corridor hung a portrait of a very fat woman in a pink silk dress.

"Password?" she said. "Caput Draconis," said Trygve, and the portrait swung forward to reveal a round hole in the wall. They all scrambled through it - Drake needed a leg up - and found themselves in the Gryffindor common room, a cozy, round room full of squashy armchairs. Trygve directed the girls through one door to their dormitory and the boys through another. At the top of a spiral staircase - they were obviously in one of the towers - they found their beds at last: five four-posters hung with deep red, velvet curtains. Their trunks had already been brought up. Too tired to talk much, they pulled on their pajamas and fell into bed.

" Great food, isn't it?" Fishlegs muttered to Hiccup through the hangings. "Get off, Meatlug! she's chewing my sheets."

Hiccup was going to ask Fishlegs if he'd had any of the treacle tart, but he fell asleep almost at once.

Perhaps Hiccup had eaten a bit too much, because he had a very strange dream. He was wearing Professor Quirrell's turban, which kept talking to him, telling him he must transfer to Slytherin at once, because it was his destiny. Hiccup told the turban he didn't want to be in Slytherin; it got heavier and heavier; he tried to pull it off but it tightened painfully - and there was Malfoy, laughing at him as he struggled with it -then Malfoy turned into the hook-nosed teacher, Snape, whose laugh became high and cold - there was a burst of green light and Hiccp woke, sweating and shaking.

He rolled over and fell asleep again, and when he woke next day, he didn't remember the dream at all.

**Mildew plays Argus Filch as Argus Mildew**

**Alvin plays Severus Snape as Severus Alvin**


	11. The Potions Master

CHAPTER EIGHT

The Potions Master

There, look."

"Where?"

"Next to the tall kid with the red hair."

"Wearing the glasses?"

"Did you see his face?"

"Did you see his scar?"

Whispers followed Harry from the moment he left his dormitory the next day. People lining up outside classrooms stood on tiptoe to get a look at him, or doubled back to pass him in the corridors again, staring. Hiccup wished they wouldn't, because he was trying to concentrate on finding his way to classes.

There were a hundred and forty-two staircases at Hogwarts: wide, sweeping ones; narrow, rickety ones; some that led somewhere different on a Friday; some with a vanishing step halfway up that you had to remember to jump. Then there were doors that wouldn't open unless you asked politely, or tickled them in exactly the right place, and doors that weren't really doors at all, but solid walls just pretending. It was also very hard to remember where anything was, because it all seemed to move around a lot. The people in the portraits kept going to visit each other, and Hiccup was sure the coats of armor could walk.

The ghosts didn't help, either. It was always a nasty shock when one of them glided suddenly through a door you were trying to open. Nearly Headless Nick was always happy to point new Gryffindors in the right direction, but Peeves the Poltergeist was worth two locked doors and a trick staircase if you met him when you were late for class. He would drop wastepaper baskets on your head, pull rugs from under your feet, pelt you with bits of chalk, or sneak up behind you, invisible, grab your nose, and screech, "GOT YOUR CONK!"

Even worse than Peeves, if that was possible, was the caretaker, Argus Mildew. Hiccup and Fishlegs managed to get on the wrong side of him on their very first morning. Mildew found them trying to force their way through a door that unluckily turned out to be the entrance to the out-of-bounds corridor on the third floor. He wouldn't believe they were lost, was sure they were trying to break into it on purpose, and was threatening to lock them in the dungeons when they were rescued by Professor Quirrell, who was passing.

Mildew owned a cat called Mr. Fungus, a scrawny, dust-colored creature with bulging, lamp like eyes just like Filch's. he patrolled the corridors alone. Break a rule in front of him, put just one toe out of line, and he'd whisk off for Mildew, who'd appear, wheezing, two seconds later. Mildew knew the secret passageways of the school better than anyone (except perhaps the Hofferson twins) and could pop up as suddenly as any of the ghosts. The students all hated him, and it was the dearest ambition of many to give Mr. Fungus a good kick.

And then, once you had managed to find them, there were the classes themselves. There was a lot more to magic, as Hiccup quickly found out, than waving your wand and saying a few funny words.

They had to study the night skies through their telescopes every Wednesday at midnight and learn the names of different stars and the movements of the planets. Three times a week they went out to the greenhouses behind the castle to study Herbology, with a dumpy little witch called Professor Sprout, where they learned how to take care of all the strange plants and fungi, and found out what they were used for.

Easily the most boring class was History of Magic, which was the only one taught by a ghost. Professor Bucket had been very old indeed when he had fallen asleep in front of the staff room fire and got up next morning to teach, leaving his body behind him. Bucket droned on and on while they scribbled down names and dates, and got Emetic the Evil and Uric the Oddball mixed up.

Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher, was a tiny little wizard who had to stand on a pile of books to see over his desk. At the start of their first class he took the roll call, and when he reached Hiccup's name he gave an excited squeak and toppled out of sight.

Professor Gothi was again different. Hiccup had been quite right to think she wasn't a teacher to cross. Strict and clever, she gave them a talking-to the moment they sat down in her first class.

"Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts," she said. "Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned."

Then she changed her desk into a pig and back again. They were all very impressed and couldn't wait to get started, but soon realized they weren't going to be changing the furniture into animals for a long time. After taking a lot of complicated notes, they were each given a match and started trying to turn it into a needle. By the end of the lesson, only Camicazi Granger had made any difference to her match; Professor Gothi showed the class how it had gone all silver and pointy and gave Camicazi a rare smile.

The class everyone had really been looking forward to was Defense Against the Dark Arts, but Quirrell's lessons turned out to be a bit of a joke. His classroom smelled strongly of garlic, which everyone said was to ward off a vampire he'd met in Romania and was afraid would be coming back to get him one of these days. His turban, he told them, had been given to him by an African prince as a thank-you for getting rid of a troublesome zombie, but they weren't sure they believed this story. For one thing, when Jonathan Atlas asked eagerly to hear how Quirrell had fought off the zombie, Quirrell went pink and started talking about the weather; for another, they had noticed that a funny smell hung around the turban, and the Weasley twins insisted that it was stuffed full of garlic as well, so that Quirrell was protected wherever he went. Hiccup was very relieved to find out that he wasn't miles behind everyone else. Lots of people had come from Muggle families and, like him, hadn't had any idea that they were witches and wizards. There was so much to learn that even people like Fishlegs didn't have much of a head start. Friday was an important day for Hiccup and Fishlegs. They finally managed to find their way down to the Great Hall for breakfast without getting lost once.

"What have we got today?" Hiccup asked Fishlegs as he poured sugar on his porridge.

"Double Potions with the Slytherins," said Fishlegs. "Alvin's Head of Slytherin House. They say he always favors them - we'll be able to see if it's true."

"Wish Gothi favored us, " said Hiccup. Professor Gothi was head of Gryffindor House, but it hadn't stopped her from giving them a huge pile of homework the day before.

Just then, the mail arrived. Hiccup had gotten used to this by now, but it had given him a bit of a shock on the first morning, when about a hundred owls had suddenly streamed into the Great Hall during breakfast, circling the tables until they saw their owners, and dropping letters and packages onto their laps.

Toothless hadn't brought Hiccup anything so far. He sometimes flew in to nibble his ear and have a bit of toast before going off to sleep in the owlery with the other school owls. This morning, however, he fluttered down between the marmalade and the sugar bowl and dropped a note onto Hiccup's plate. Hiccup tore it open at once. It said, in a very untidy scrawl:

Dear Hiccup,

I know you get Friday afternoons off, so would you like to come and have a cup of tea with me around three?

I want to hear all about your first week. Send us an answer back with Toothless.

Mulch

Hiccup borrowed Fishlegs' quill, scribbled Yes, please, see you later on the back of the note, and sent Toothless off again.

It was lucky that Hiccup had tea with Mulch to look forward to, because the Potions lesson turned out to be the worst thing that had happened to him so far.

At the start-of-term banquet, Hiccup had gotten the idea that Professor Alvin disliked him. By the end of the first Potions lesson, he knew he'd been wrong. Alvin didn't dislike Hiccup - he hated him.

Potions lessons took place down in one of the dungeons. It was colder here than up in the main castle, and would have been quite creepy enough without the pickled animals floating in glass jars all around the walls. Alvin, like Flitwick, started the class by taking the roll call, and like Flitwick, he paused at Hiccup's name.

"Ah, Yes," he said softly, "Hiccup Haddock. Our new - celebrity." Valence Malfoy and his friends Ivar and Gisle sniggered behind their hands. Alvin finished calling the names and looked up at the class. His eyes were black like Mulch's, but they had none of Mulch's warmth. They were cold and empty and made you think of dark tunnels.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potionmaking," he began. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but they caught every word - like Professor Gothi, Alvin had y caught every word - like Professor Gothi, Alvin had the gift of keeping a class silent without effort. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death - if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

More silence followed this little speech. Hiccup and Fishlegs exchanged looks with raised eyebrows. Camicazi Granger was on the edge of her seat and looked desperate to start proving that she wasn't a dunderhead.

"Haddock!" said Alvin suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Powdered root of what to an infusion of what? Hiccup glanced at Fishlegs, who looked as stumped as he was; Camicazi's hand had shot into the air.

"I don't know, sir," said Hiccup.

Alvin's lips curled into a sneer.

"Tut, tut - fame clearly isn't everything."

He ignored Camicazi's hand.

"Let's try again. Haddock, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

Camicazi stretched her hand as high into the air as it would go without her leaving her seat, but Hiccup didn't have the faintest idea what a bezoar was. He tried not to look at Malfoy, Ivar, and Gisle, who were shaking with laughter.

"I don't know, sit." "Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, eh, Haddock?" Hiccup forced himself to keep looking straight into those cold eyes. He had looked through his books at the Jorgenson's, but did Alvin expect him to remember everything in One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi?

Alvin was still ignoring Camicazi's quivering hand.

"What is the difference, Haddock, between monkshood and wolfsbane?" At this, Camicazi stood up, her hand stretching toward the dungeon ceiling.

"I don't know," said Hiccup quietly. "I think Camicazi does, though, why don't you try her?"

A few people laughed; Hiccup caught Jonathan's eye, and Jonathan winked. Alvin, however, was not pleased.

"Sit down," he snapped at Camicazi. "For your information, Haddock, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite. Well? Why aren't you all copying that down?"

There was a sudden rummaging for quills and parchment. Over the noise, Alvin said, "And a point will be taken from Gryffindor House for your cheek, Haddock."

Things didn't improve for the Gryffindors as the Potions lesson continued. Alvin put them all into pairs and set them to mixing up a simple potion to cure boils. He swept around in his long black cloak, watching them weigh dried nettles and crush snake fangs, criticizing almost everyone except Malfoy, whom he seemed to like. He was just telling everyone to look at the perfect way Malfoy had stewed his horned slugs when clouds of acid green smoke and a loud hissing filled the dungeon. Drake had somehow managed to melt Seamus's cauldron into a twisted blob, and their potion was seeping across the stone floor, burning holes in people's shoes. Within seconds, the whole class was standing on their stools while Drake, who had been drenched in the potion when the cauldron collapsed, moaned in pain as angry red boils sprang up all over his arms and legs.

"Idiot boy!" snarled Alvin, clearing the spilled potion away with one wave of his wand. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"

Drake whimpered as boils started to pop up all over his nose.

"Take him up to the hospital wing," Alvin spat at Jonathan. Then he rounded on Hiccup and Fishlegs, who had been working next to Drake.

"You - Haddock - why didn't you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he'd make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? That's another point you've lost for Gryffindor."

This was so unfair that Hiccup opened his mouth to argue, but Fishlegs kicked him behind their cauldron.

"Doi* push it," he muttered, "I've heard Alvin can turn very nasty." As they climbed the steps out of the dungeon an hour later, Hiccup's mind was racing and his spirits were low. He'd lost two points for Gryffindor in his very first week - why did Alvin hate him so much? "Cheer up," said Fishlegs, "Alvin's always taking points off Tuffnut and Ruffnut. Can I come and meet Mulch with you?"

At five to three they left the castle and made their way across the grounds. Mulch lived in a small wooden house on the edge of the forbidden forest. A crossbow and a pair of galoshes were outside the front door.

When Hiccup knocked they heard a frantic scrabbling from inside and several booming barks. Then Mulch's voice rang out, saying, "Back, Fang- back."

Mulch's big, hairy face appeared in the crack as he pulled the door open.

"Hang on," he said. "Back, Fang."

He let them in, struggling to keep a hold on the collar of an enormous black boarhound.

There was only one room inside. Hams and pheasants were hanging from the ceiling, a copper kettle was boiling on the open fire, and in the corner stood a massive bed with a patchwork quilt over it.

"Make yerselves at home," said Mulch, letting go of Fang, who bounded straight at Fishlegs and started licking his ears. Like Mulch, Fang was clearly not as fierce as he looked.

"This is Fishlegs," Hiccup told Mulch, who was pouring boiling water into a large teapot and putting rock cakes onto a plate.

"Another Hofferson, eh?" said Mulch, glancing at Fishlegs's freckles. I spent half me life chasin' yer twin siblings away from the forest."

The rock cakes were shapeless lumps with raisins that almost broke their teeth, but Hiccup and Fishlegs pretended to be enjoying them as they told Mulch all about their first -lessons. Fang rested his head on Hiccup's knee and drooled all over his robes.

Hiccup and Fishlegs were delighted to hear Mulch call Mildew "that old git." "An' as fer that cat, Mr. Fungus, I'd like ter introduce him to Fang sometime. D'yeh know, every time I go up ter the school, she follows me everywhere? Can't get rid of her - Mildew puts him up to it."

Hiccup told Mulch about Alvin's lesson. Mulch, like Fishlegs, told Hiccup not to worry about it, that Alvin liked hardly any of the students.

"But he seemed to really hate me."

"Rubbish!" said Mulch. "Why should he?"

Yet Hiccup couldn't help thinking that Mulch didn't quite meet his eyes when he said that.

"How's yer brother Magnus?" Mulch asked Fishlegs. "I liked him a lot -great with animals."

Hiccup wondered if Mulch had changed the subject on purpose. While Fishlegs told Mulch all about Magnus' work with dragons, Hiccup picked up a piece of paper that was lying on the table under the tea cozy. It was a cutting from the Daily Prophet:

GRINGOTTS BREAK-IN LATEST

Investigations continue into the break-in at Gringotts on 31 July, widely believed to be the work of Dark wizards or witches unknown. Gringotts goblins today insisted that nothing had been taken. The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied the same day.

"But we're not telling you what was in there, so keep your noses out if you know what's good for you," said a Gringotts spokesgoblin this afternoon.

Hiccup remembered Hiccup telling him on the train that someone had tried to rob Gringotts, but Fishlegs hadn't mentioned the date.

"Mulch!" said Hiccup, "that Gringotts break-in happened on my birthday! It might've been happening while we were there!"

There was no doubt about it, Mulch definitely didn't meet Hiccup's eyes this time. He grunted and offered him another rock cake. Hiccup read the story again. The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied earlier that same day. Mulch had emptied vault seven hundred and thirteen, if you could call it emptying, taking out that grubby little package. Had that been what the thieves were looking for?

As Hiccup and Fishlegs walked back to the castle for dinner, their pockets weighed down with rock cakes they'd been too polite to refuse, Hiccup thought that none of the lessons he'd had so far had given him as much to think about as tea with Mulch. Had Mulch collected that package just in time? Where was it now? And did Mulch know something about Alvin that he didn't want to tell Hiccup?

**Vali Dornet plays Oliver Wood made by Littlest1**


	12. The Midnight Duel

CHAPTER NINE

The Midnight Duel

Hiccup had never believed he would meet a boy he hated more than Snotlout,

but that was before he met Draco Malfoy. Still, first-year Gryffindors only had Potions with the Slytherins, so they didn't have to put up with Malfoy much. Or at least, they didn't until they spotted a notice pinned up in the Gryffindor common room that made them all groan. Flying lessons would be starting on Thursday - and Gryffindor and Slytherin would be learning together.

"Typical," said Hiccup darkly. "Just what I always wanted. To make a fool of myself on a broomstick in front of Malfoy."

He had been looking forward to learning to fly more than anything else. "You don't know that you'll make a fool of yourself," said Fishlegs reasonably. "Anyway, I know Malfoy's always going on about how good he is at Quidditch, but I bet that's all talk."

Malfay certainly did talk about flying a lot. He complained loudly about first years never getting on the house Quidditch teams and told long, boastful stories that always seemed to end with him narrowly escaping Muggles in helicopters. He wasn't the only one, though: the way Jonathan Atlas told it, he'd spent most of his childhood zooming around the countryside on his broomstick. Even Fishlegs would tell anyone who'd listen about the time he'd almost hit a hang glider on Magnus' old broom. Everyone from wizarding families talked about Quidditch constantly. Fishlegs had already had a big argument with Dean Thomas, who shared their dormitory, about soccer. Fishlegs couldn't see what was exciting about a game with only one ball where no one was allowed to fly. Hiccup had caught Fishlegs prodding Dean's poster of West Ham soccer team, trying to make the players move.

Drake had never been on a broomstick in his life, because his grandmother had never let him near one. Privately, Hiccup felt she'd had good reason, because Neville managed to have an extraordinary number of accidents even with both feet on the ground.

Camicazi Granger was almost as nervous about flying as Drake was. This was something you couldn't learn by heart out of a book - not that she hadn't tried. At breakfast on Thursday she bored them all stupid with flying tips she'd gotten out of a library book called Quidditch Through the Ages. Drake was hanging on to her every word, desperate for anything that might help him hang on to his broomstick later, but everybody else was very pleased when Camicazi's lecture was interrupted by the arrival of the mail.

Hiccup hadn't had a single letter since Mulch's note, something that Malfoy had been quick to notice, of course. Malfoy's eagle owl was always bringing him packages of sweets from home, which he opened gloatingly at the Slytherin table.

A barn owl brought Neville a small package from his grandmother. He opened it excitedly and showed them a glass ball the size of a large marble, which seemed to be full of white smoke.

"It's a Remembrall!" he explained. "Gran knows I forget things - this tells you if there's something you've forgotten to do. Look, you hold it tight like this and if it turns red - oh..." His face fell, because the Remembrall had suddenly glowed scarlet,

"You've forgotten something..."

Drake was trying to remember what he'd forgotten when Valence Malfoy, who was passing the Gryffindor table, snatched the Remembrall out of his hand.

Hiccup and Fishlegs jumped to their feet. They were half hoping for a reason to fight Malfay, but Professor Gothi, who could spot trouble quicker than any teacher in the school, was there in a flash.

"What's going on?"

"Malfoy's got my Remembrall, Professor."

Scowling, Malfoy quickly dropped the Remembrall back on the table. "Just looking," he said, and he sloped away with Ivar and Gisle behind him.

At three-thirty that afternoon, Hiccup, Fishlegs, and the other Gryffindors hurried down the front steps onto the grounds for their first flying lesson. It was a clear, breezy day, and the grass rippled under their feet as they marched down the sloping lawns toward a smooth, flat lawn on the opposite side of the grounds to the forbidden forest, whose trees were swaying darkly in the distance.

The Slytherins were already there, and so were twenty broomsticks lying in neat lines on the ground. Hiccup had heard Tuffnut and Ruffnut Hofferson complain about the school brooms, saying that some of them started to vibrate if you flew too high, or always flew slightly to the left. Their teacher, Madam Hooch, arrived. She had short, gray hair, and yellow eyes like a hawk.

"Well, what are you all waiting for?" she barked. "Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up."

Hiccup glanced down at his broom. It was old and some of the twigs stuck out at odd angles.

"Stick out your right hand over your broom," called Madam Hooch at the front, "and say 'Up!"'

"UPF everyone shouted.

Hiccup's broom jumped into his hand at once, but it was one of the few that did. Camicazi Granger's had simply rolled over on the ground, and Drake's hadn't moved at all. Perhaps brooms, like horses, could tell when you were afraid, thought Hiccup; there was a quaver in Drake's voice that said only too clearly that he wanted to keep his feet on the ground.

Madam Hooch then showed them how to mount their brooms without sliding off the end, and walked up and down the rows correcting their grips. Hiccup and Ron were delighted when she told Malfoy he'd been doing it wrong for years.

"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard," said Madam Hooch. "Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle - three- two -"

But Drake, nervous and jumpy and frightened of being left on the ground, pushed off hard before the whistle had touched Madam Hooch's lips.

"Come back, boy!" she shouted, but Drake was rising straight up like a cork shot out of a bottle - twelve feet - twenty feet. Hiccup saw his scared white face look down at the ground falling away, saw him gasp, slip sideways off the broom and -

WHAM - a thud and a nasty crack and Neville lay facedown on the grass in a heap. His broomstick was still rising higher and higher, and started to drift lazily toward the forbidden forest and out of sight. Madam Hooch was bending over Drake, her face as white as his.

"Broken wrist," Hiccup heard her mutter. "Come on, boy - it's all right, up you get.".

She turned to the rest of the class.

"None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch.' Come on, dear."

Drake, his face tear-streaked, clutching his wrist, hobbled off with Madam Hooch, who had her arm around him.

No sooner were they out of earshot than Malfoy burst into laughter. "Did you see his face, the great lump?"

The other Slytherins joined in.

"Shut up, Malfoy," snapped Parvati Patil.

"Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?" said Pansy Parkinson, a hard-faced Slytherin girl. "Never thought you'd like fat little crybabies, Parvati."

"Look!" said Malfoy, darting forward and snatching something out of the grass. "It's that stupid thing Longbottom's gran sent him." The Remembrall glittered in the sun as he held it up.

"Give that here, Malfoy," said Hiccup quietly. Everyone stopped talking to watch.

Malfoy smiled nastily.

"I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find - how about - up a tree?"

"Give it here!" Hiccup yelled, but Malfoy had leapt onto his broomstick and taken off. He hadn't been lying, he could fly well. Hovering level with the topmost branches of an oak he called, "Come and get it, Haddock!"

Hiccup grabbed his broom.

"No!" shouted Camicazi Granger. "Madam Hooch told us not to move -you'll get us all into trouble."

Hiccup ignored her. Blood was pounding in his ears. He mounted the broom and kicked hard against the ground and up, up he soared; air rushed through his hair, and his robes whipped out behind him -and in a rush of fierce joy he realized he'd found something he could do without being taught - this was easy, this was wonderful. He pulled his broomstick up a little to take it even higher, and heard screams and gasps of girls back on the ground and an admiring whoop from Ron.

He turned his broomstick sharply to face Malfoy in midair. Malfoy looked stunned.

"Give it here," Hiccup called, "or I'll knock you off that broom!" "Oh, yeah?" said Malfoy, trying to sneer, but looking worried.

Hiccup knew, somehow, what to do. He leaned forward and grasped the broom tightly in both hands, and it shot toward Malfay like a javelin. Malfoy only just got out of the way in time; Harry made a sharp about-face and held the broom steady. A few people below were clapping.

"No Ivar and Gisle up here to save your neck, Malfoy," Hiccup called. The same thought seemed to have struck Malfoy.

"Catch it if you can, then!" he shouted, and he threw the glass ball high into the air and streaked back toward the ground.

Hiccup saw, as though in slow motion, the ball rise up in the air and then start to fall. He leaned forward and pointed his broom handle down - next second he was gathering speed in a steep dive, racing the ball- wind whistled in his ears, mingled with the screams of people watching - he stretched out his hand - a foot from the ground he caught it, just in time to pull his broom straight, and he toppled gently onto the grass with the Remembrall clutched safely in his fist.

"HICCUP HADDOCK!"

His heart sank faster than he'd just dived. Professor Gothi was running toward them. He got to his feet, trembling.

"Never - in all my time at Hogwarts -"

Professor Gothi was almost speechless with shock, and her glasses flashed furiously, "- how dare you - might have broken your neck -"

"It wasn't his fault, Professor -"

"Be quiet, Miss Patil

"But Malfoy -"

"That's enough, Mr. Hofferson. Haddock, follow me, now."

Hiccup caught sight of Malfoy, Ivar, and Gisle's triumphant faces as he left, walking numbly in Professor Gothi's wake as she strode toward the castle. He was going to be expelled, he just knew it. He wanted to say something to defend himself, but there seemed to be something wrong with his voice. Professor Gothi was sweeping along without even looking at him; he had to jog to keep up. Now he'd done it. He hadn't even lasted two weeks. He'd be packing his bags in ten minutes. What would the Dursleys say when he turned up on the doorstep?

Up the front steps, up the marble staircase inside, and still Professor Gothi didn't say a word to him. She wrenched open doors and marched along corridors with Hiccup trotting miserably behind her. Maybe she was taking him to Thor. He thought of Mulch, expelled but allowed to stay on as gamekeeper. Perhaps he could be Mulch's assistant. His stomach twisted as he imagined it, watching Fishlegs and the others becoming wizards, while he stumped around the grounds carrying Mulch's bag.

Professor Gothi stopped outside a classroom. She opened the door and poked her head inside.

"Excuse me, Professor Flitwick, could I borrow Wood for a moment?" Dornet? thought Hiccup, bewildered; was Wood a cane she was going to use on him?

But Dornet turned out to be a person, a burly fifth-year boy who came out of Flitwicles class looking confused.

"Follow me, you two," said Professor Gothi, and they marched on up the corridor, Dornet looking curiously at Hiccup.

"In here."

Professor Gothi pointed them into a classroom that was empty except for Peeves, who was busy writing rude words on the blackboard.

"Out, Peeves!" she barked. Peeves threw the chalk into a bin, which clanged loudly, and he swooped out cursing. Professor Gothi slammed the door behind him and turned to face the two boys.

"Haddock, this is Vali Dornet. Dornet - I've found you a Seeker." Dornet's expression changed from puzzlement to delight.

"Are you serious, Professor?"

"Absolutely," said Professor Gothi crisply. "The boy's a natural. I've never seen anything like it. Was that your first time on a broomstick, Haddock?"

Hiccup nodded silently. He didn't have a clue what was going on, but he didn't seem to be being expelled, and some of the feeling started coming back to his legs.

"He caught that thing in his hand after a fifty-foot dive," Professor Gothi told Wood. "Didn't even scratch himself. Magnus Hofferson couldn't have done it."

Dornet was now looking as though all his dreams had come true at once. "Ever seen a game of Quidditch, Haddock?" he asked excitedly.

"Dornet's captain of the Gryffindor team," Professor Gothi explained.

"He's just the build for a Seeker, too," said Dornet, now walking around Hiccup and staring at him. "Light - speedy - we'll have to get him a decent broom, Professor - a Nimbus Two Thousand or a Cleansweep Seven, I'd say."

I shall speak to Professor Thor and see if we can't bend the first-year rule. Heaven knows, we need a better team than last year. Flattened in that last match by Slytherin, I couldn't look Severus Alvin in the face for weeks..."

Professor Gothi peered sternly over her glasses at Hiccup.

"I want to hear you're training hard, Haddock, or I may change my mind about punishing you."

Then she suddenly smiled.

"Your father would have been proud," she said. "He was an excellent Quidditch player himself."

"You're joking."

It was dinnertime. Hiccup had just finished telling Fishlegs what had happened when he'd left the grounds with Professor Gothi. Fishlegs had a piece of steak and kidney pie halfway to his mouth, but he'd forgotten all about it.

"Seeker?" he said. "But first years never - you must be the youngest house player in about a century, said Hiccup, shoveling pie into his mouth. He felt particularly hungry after the excitement of the afternoon. "Dornet told me."

Fishlegs was so amazed, so impressed, he just sat and gaped at Hiccup. "I start training next week," said Hiccup. "Only don't tell anyone, Dornat wants to keep it a secret."

Tuffnut and Ruffnut Weasley now came into the hall, spotted Hiccup, and hurried over.

"Well done," said Ruffnut in a low voice. "Wood told us. We're on the team too - Beaters."

"I tell you, we're going to win that Quidditch cup for sure this year," said Tuffnut. "We haven't won since Magnus left, but this year's team is going to be brilliant. You must be good, Hiccup, Wood was almost skipping when he told us."

"Anyway, we've got to go, Lee Jordan reckons he's found a new secret passageway out of the school."

"Bet it's that one behind the statue of Gregory the Smarmy that we found in our first week. See you."

Tuffnut and Ruffnut had hardly disappeared when someone far less welcome turned up: Malfoy, flanked by Ivar and Gisle.

"Having a last meal, Haddock? When are you getting the train back to the Muggles?"

"You're a lot braver now that you're back on the ground and you've got your little friends with you," said Hiccup coolly. There was of course nothing at all little about Ivar and Gisle, but as the High Table was full of teachers, neither of them could do more than crack their knuckles and scowl.

"I'd take you on anytime on my own," said Malfoy. "Tonight, if you want. Wizard's duel. Wands only - no contact. What's the matter? Never heard of a wizard's duel before, I suppose?"

"Of course he has," said Fishlegs, wheeling around. "I'm his second, who's yours?"

Malfoy looked at Ivar and Gisle, sizing them up.

"Ivar," he said. "Midnight all right? We'll meet you in the trophy room; that's always unlocked."

When Malfoy had gone, Fishlegs and Hiccup looked at each other. "What is a wizard's duel?" said Hiccup. "And what do you mean, you're my second?"

"Well, a second's there to take over if you die," said Fishlegs casually, getting started at last on his cold pie. Catching the look on Hiccup's face, he added quickly, "But people only die in proper duels, you know, with real wizards. The most you and Malfoy'll be able to do is send sparks at each other. Neither of you knows enough magic to do any real damage. I bet he expected you to refuse, anyway."

"And what if I wave my wand and nothing happens?"

"Throw it away and punch him on the nose," Fishlegs suggested. "Excuse me."

They both looked up. It was Camicazi Granger.

"Can't a person eat in peace in this place?" said Fishlegs.

Camicazi ignored him and spoke to Hiccup.

"I couldn't help overhearing what you and Malfoy were saying -"

"Bet you could," Fishlegs muttered.

"-and you mustn't go wandering around the school at night, think of the points you'll lose Gryffindor if you're caught, and you're bound to be. It's really very selfish of you."

"And it's really none of your business," said Hiccup.

"Good-bye," said Fishlegs.

All the same, it wasn't what you'd call the perfect end to the day, Hiccup thought, as he lay awake much later listening to Dean and Jonathan falling asleep (Drake wasn't back from the hospital wing). Fishlegs had spent all evening giving him advice such as "If he tries to curse you, you'd better dodge it, because I can't remember how to block them." There was a very good chance they were going to get caught by Mildew or Mr. Fungus, and Hiccup felt he was pushing his luck, breaking another school rule today. On the other hand, Malfoys sneering face kept looming up out of the darkness - this was his big chance to beat Malfoy face-to-face. He couldn't miss it.

"Half-past eleven," Fishlegs muttered at last, "we'd better go."

They pulled on their bathrobes, picked up their wands, and crept across the tower room, down the spiral staircase, and into the Gryffindor common room. A few embers were still glowing in the fireplace, turning all the armchairs into hunched black shadows. They had almost reached the portrait hole when a voice spoke from the chair nearest them, "I can't believe you're going to do this, Hiccup."

A lamp flickered on. It was Camicazi Granger, wearing a pink bathrobe and a frown.

"You!" said Fishlegs furiously. "Go back to bed!"

"I almost told your brother," Camicazi snapped, "Trygve - he's a prefect, he'd put a stop to this."

Hiccup couldn't believe anyone could be so interfering.

"Come on," he said to Fishlegs. He pushed open the portrait of the Fat Lady and climbed through the hole.

Camicazi wasn't going to give up that easily. She followed Fishlegs through the portrait hole, hissing at them like an angry goose.

"Don't you care about Gryffindor, do you only care about yourselves, I don't want Slytherin to win the house cup, and you'll lose all the points I got from Professor Gothi for knowing about Switching Spells."

"Go away." "All right, but I warned you, you just remember what I said when you're on the train home tomorrow, you're so -"

But what they were, they didn't find out. Hermione had turned to the portrait of the Fat Lady to get back inside and found herself facing an empty painting. The Fat Lady had gone on a nighttime visit and Camicazi was locked out of Gryffindor tower.

"Now what am I going to do?" she asked shrilly.

"That's your problem," said Ron. "We've got to go, we 3 re going to be late."

They hadn't even reached the end of the corridor when Hermione caught up with them.

"I'm coming with you," she said.

"You are not."

"D'you think I'm going to stand out here and wait for Mildew to catch me? If he finds all three of us I'll tell him the truth, that I was trying to stop you, and you can back me up."

"You've got some nerve -" said Fishlegs loudly.

"Shut up, both of you!" said Hiccup sharply. I heard something."

It was a sort of snuffling.

"Mr. Fungus?" breathed Fishlegs, squinting through the dark.

It wasn't Mr. Fungus. It was Drake. He was curled up on the floor, fast asleep, but jerked suddenly awake as they crept nearer.

"Thank goodness you found me! I've been out here for hours, I couldn't remember the new password to get in to bed."

"Keep your voice down, Drake. The password's 'Pig snout' but it won't help you now, the Fat Lady's gone off somewhere."

"How's your arm?" said Hiccup.

"Fine," said Drake, showing them. "Madam Pomfrey mended it in about a minute."

"Good - well, look, Drake, we've got to be somewhere, we'll see you later -"

"Don't leave me!" said Drake, scrambling to his feet, "I don't want to stay here alone, the Bloody Baron's been past twice already."

Fishlegs looked at his watch and then glared furiously at Camicazi and Drake.

"If either of you get us caught, I'll never rest until I've learned that Curse of the Bogies Quirrell told us about, and used it on you.

Camicazi opened her mouth, perhaps to tell Fishlegs exactly how to use the Curse of the Bogies, but Hiccup hissed at her to be quiet and beckoned them all forward.

They flitted along corridors striped with bars of moonlight from the high windows. At every turn Harry expected to run into Mildew or Mr. Fungus, but they were lucky. They sped up a staircase to the third floor and tiptoed toward the trophy room.

Malfoy and Ivar weren't there yet. The crystal trophy cases glimmered where the moonlight caught them. Cups, shields, plates, and statues winked silver and gold in the darkness. They edged along the walls, keeping their eyes on the doors at either end of the room. Hiccup took out his wand in case Malfoy leapt in and started at once. The minutes crept by.

"He's late, maybe he's chickened out," Fishlegs whispered.

Then a noise in the next room made them jump. Hiccup had only just raised his wand when they heard someone speak -and it wasn't Malfoy.

"Sniff around, my sweet, they might be lurking in a corner."

It was Mildew speaking to Mr. Fungus. Horror-struck, Hiccup waved madly at the other three to follow him as quickly as possible; they scurried silently toward the door, away from Mildew's voice. Drake's robes had barely whipped round the corner when they heard Filch enter the trophy room.

"They're in here somewhere," they heard him mutter, "probably hiding."

"This way!" Hiccup mouthed to the others and, petrified, they began to creep down a long gallery full of suits of armor. They could hear Mildew getting nearer. Drake suddenly let out a frightened squeak and broke into a run -he tripped, grabbed Fishlegs around the waist, and the pair of them toppled right into a suit of armor.

The clanging and crashing were enough to wake the whole castle.

"RUN!" Hiccup yelled, and the four of them sprinted down the gallery, not looking back to see whether Mildew was following - they swung around the doorpost and galloped down one corridor then another, Harry in the lead, without any idea where they were or where they were going - they ripped through a tapestry and found themselves in a hidden passageway, hurtled along it and came out near their Charms classroom, which they knew was miles from the trophy room.

"I think we've lost him," Hiccup panted, leaning against the cold wall and wiping his forehead. Drake was bent double, wheezing and spluttering.

I - told -you," Camicazi gasped, clutching at the stitch in her chest, "I - told - you."

"We've got to get back to Gryffindor tower," said Fishlegs, "quickly as possible."

"Malfoy tricked you," Camicazi said to Hiccup. "You realize that, don't you? He was never going to meet you - Mildew knew someone was going to be in the trophy room, Malfoy must have tipped him off."

Hiccup thought she was probably right, but he wasn't going to tell her that.

"Let's go."

It wasn't going to be that simple. They hadn't gone more than a dozen paces when a doorknob rattled and something came shooting out of a classroom in front of them.

It was Peeves. He caught sight of them and gave a squeal of delight.

"Shut up, Peeves - please - you'll get us thrown out."

Peeves cackled.

"Wandering around at midnight, Ickle Firsties? Tut, tut, tut. Naughty, naughty, you'll get caughty."

"Not if you don't give us away, Peeves, please."

"Should tell Mildew, I should," said Peeves in a saintly voice, but his eyes glittered wickedly. "It's for your own good, you know."

"Get out of the way," snapped Fishlegs, taking a swipe at Peeves this was a big mistake.

"STUDENTS OUT OF BED!" Peeves bellowed, "STUDENTS OUT OF BED DOWN THE CHARMS CORRIDOR"

Ducking under Peeves, they ran for their lives, right to the end of the corridor where they slammed into a door - and it was locked.

"This is it!" Fishlegs moaned, as they pushed helplessly at the door, "We're done for! This is the end!" They could hear footsteps, Mildew running as fast as he could toward Peeves's shouts.

"Oh, move over," Camicazi snarled. She grabbed Hiccup's wand, tapped the lock, and whispered, 'Alohomora!"

The lock clicked and the door swung open - they piled through it, shut it quickly, and pressed their ears against it, listening.

"Which way did they go, Peeves?" Mildew was saying. "Quick, tell me."

"Say 'please."'

"Don't mess with me, Peeves, now where did they go?"

"Shan't say nothing if you don't say please," said Peeves in his annoying singsong voice.

"All right -please."

"NOTHING! Ha haaa! Told you I wouldn't say nothing if you didn't say please! Ha ha! Haaaaaa!" And they heard the sound of Peeves whooshing away and Mildew cursing in rage.

"He thinks this door is locked," Hiccup whispered. "I think we'll be okay - get off, Drake!" For Drake had been tugging on the sleeve of Hiccup's bathrobe for the last minute. "What?"

Hiccup turned around - and saw, quite clearly, what. For a moment, he was sure he'd walked into a nightmare - this was too much, on top of everything that had happened so far.

They weren't in a room, as he had supposed. They were in a corridor. The forbidden corridor on the third floor. And now they knew why it was forbidden.

They were looking straight into the eyes of a monstrous dog, a dog that filled the whole space between ceiling and floor. It had three heads. Three pairs of rolling, mad eyes; three noses, twitching and quivering in their direction; three drooling mouths, saliva hanging in slippery ropes from yellowish fangs.

It was standing quite still, all six eyes staring at them, and Hiccup knew that the only reason they weren't already dead was that their sudden appearance had taken it by surprise, but it was quickly getting over that, there was no mistaking what those thunderous growls meant.

Hiccup groped for the doorknob - between Mildew and death, he'd take Mildew.

They fell backward - Hiccup slammed the door shut, and they ran, they almost flew, back down the corridor. Mildew must have hurried off to look for them somewhere else, because they didn't see him anywhere, but they hardly cared - all they wanted to do was put as much space as possible between them and that monster. They didn't stop running until they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady on the seventh floor.

"Where on earth have you all been?" she asked, looking at their bathrobes hanging off their shoulders and their flushed, sweaty faces. "Never mind that - pig snout, pig snout," panted Hiccup, and the portrait swung forward. They scrambled into the common room and collapsed, trembling, into armchairs.

It was a while before any of them said anything. Drake, indeed, looked as if he'd never speak again.

"What do they think they're doing, keeping a thing like that locked up in a school?" said Fishlegs finally. "If any dog needs exercise, that one does."

Camicazi had got both her breath and her bad temper back again. "You don't use your eyes, any of you, do you?" she snapped. "Didn't you see what it was standing on.

"The floor?" Hiccup suggested. "I wasn't looking at its feet, I was too busy with its heads."

"No, not the floor. It was standing on a trapdoor. It's obviously guarding something."

She stood up, glaring at them.

I hope you're pleased with yourselves. We could all have been killed -or worse, expelled. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to bed." Fishlegs stared after her, his mouth open.

"No, we don't mind," he said. "You'd think we dragged her along, wouldn't you.

But Camicazi had given Hiccup something else to think about as he climbed back into bed. The dog was guarding something... What had Mulch said? Gringotts was the safest place in the world for something you wanted to hide - except perhaps Hogwarts.

It looked as though Hiccup had found out where the grubby littie package from vault seven hundred and thirteen was.

**By the Way, Fishlegs is skinny**


	13. Halloween

CHAPTER TEN

Halloween

Malfoy couldn't believe his eyes when he saw that Hiccup and Fishlegs were still at Hogwarts the next day, looking tired but perfectly cheerful.

Indeed, by the next morning Hiccup and Fishlegs thought that meeting the three-headed dog had been an excellent adventure, and they were quite keen to have another one. In the meantime, Hiccup filled Fishlegs in about the package that seemed to have been moved from Gringotts to Hogwarts, and they spent a lot of time wondering what could possibly need such heavy protection.

"It's either really valuable or really dangerous," said Fishlegs.

"Or both," said Hiccup.

But as all they knew for sure about the mysterious object was that it was about two inches long, they didn't have much chance of guessing what it was without further clues.

Neither Drake nor Camicazi showed the slightest interest in what lay underneath the dog and the trapdoor. All Drake cared about was never going near the dog again.

Camicazi was now refusing to speak to Hiccup and Fishlegs, but she was such a bossy know-it-all that they saw this as an added bonus. All they really wanted now was a way of getting back at Malfoy, and to their great delight, just such a thing arrived in the mail about a week later.

As the owls flooded into the Great Hall as usual, everyone's attention was caught at once by a long, thin package carried by six large screech owls. Hiccup was just as interested as everyone else to see what was in this large parcel, and was amazed when the owls soared down and dropped it right in front of him, knocking his bacon to the floor. They had hardly fluttered out of the way when another owl dropped a letter on top of the parcel.

Hiccup ripped open the letter first, which was lucky, because it said:

DO NOT OPEN THE PARCEL AT THE TABLE.

It contains your new Nimbus Two Thousand, but I don't want everybody knowing you've got a broomstick or they'll all want one. Vali Dornet will meet you tonight on the Quidditch field at seven o'clock for your first training session.

Professor Gothi

Hiccup had difficulty hiding his glee as he handed the note to Fishlegs to read.

"A Nimbus Two Thousand!" Fishlegs moaned enviously. "I've never even touched one."

They left the hall quickly, wanting to unwrap the broomstick in private before their first class, but halfway across the entrance hall they found the way upstairs barred by Ivar and Gisle. Malfoy seized the package from Hiccup and felt it.

"That's a broomstick," he said, throwing it back to Hiccup with a mixture of jealousy and spite on his face. "You'll be in for it this time, Haddock, first years aren't allowed them."

Fishlegs couldn't resist it.

"It's not any old broomstick," he said, "it's a Nimbus Two Thousand. What did you say you've got at home, Malfoy, a Comet Two Sixty?" Fishlegs grinned at Hiccup. "Comets look flashy, but they're not in the same league as the Nimbus."

"What would you know about it, Hofferson, you couldn't afford half the handle," Malfoy snapped back. "I suppose you and your brothers have to save up twig by twig."

Before Fishlegs could answer, Professor Flitwick appeared at Malfoy's elbow.

"Not arguing, I hope, boys?" he squeaked.

"Haddock's been sent a broomstick, Professor," said Malfoy quickly.

"Yes, yes, that's right," said Professor Flitwick, beaming at Hiccup. "Professor Gothi told me all about the special circumstances, Haddock. And what model is it?"

"A Nimbus Two Thousand, sit," said Hiccup, fighting not to laugh at the look of horror on Malfoy's face. "And it's really thanks to Malfoy here that I've got it," he added.

Hiccup and Fishlegs headed upstairs, smothering their laughter at Malfoy's obvious rage and confusion.

"Well, it's true," Hiccup chortled as they reached the top of the marble staircase, "If he hadn't stolen Drake's Remembrall I wouln't be on the team..."

"So I suppose you think that's a reward for breaking rules?" came an angry voice from just behind them. Camicazi was stomping up the stairs, looking disapprovingly at the package in Hiccup's hand.

"I thought you weren't speaking to us?" said Hiccup.

"Yes, don't stop now," said Fishlegs, "it's doing us so much good."

Camicazi marched away with her nose in the air.

Hiccup had a lot of trouble keeping his mind on his lessons that day. It kept wandering up to the dormitory where his new broomstick was lying under his bed, or straying off to the Quidditch field where he'd be learning to play that night. He bolted his dinner that evening without noticing what he was eating, and then rushed upstairs with Fishlegs to unwrap the Nimbus Two Thousand at last.

"Wow," Fishlegs sighed, as the broomstick rolled onto Hiccup's bedspread.

Even Hiccup, who knew nothing about the different brooms, thought it looked wonderful. Sleek and shiny, with a mahogany handle, it had a long tail of neat, straight twigs and Nimbus Two Thousand written in gold near the top.

As seven o'clock drew nearer, Hiccup left the castle and set off in the dusk toward the Quidditch field. Held never been inside the stadium before. Hundreds of seats were raised in stands around the field so that the spectators were high enough to see what was going on. At either end reminded Hiccup of the little plastic sticks Muggle children blew bubbles through, except that they were fifty feet high.

Too eager to fly again to wait for Dornet, Hiccup mounted his broomstick and kicked off from the ground. What a feeling - he swooped in and out of the goal posts and then sped up and down the field. The Nimbus Two Thousand turned wherever he wanted at his lightest touch.

"Hey, Haddock, come down!'

Vali Dornet had arrived. fie was carrying a large wooden crate under his arm. Hiccup landed next to him.

"Very nice," said Dornet, his eyes glinting. "I see what Gothi meant... you really are a natural. I'm just going to teach you the rules this evening, then you'll be joining team practice three times a week."

He opened the crate. Inside were four different-sized balls.

"Right," said Dornet. "Now, Quidditch is easy enough to understand, even if it's not too easy to play. There are seven players on each side. Three of them are called Chasers."

"Three Chasers," Hiccup repeated, as Wood took out a bright red ball about the size of a soccer ball.

"This ball's called the Quaffle," said Dornet. "The Chasers throw the Quaffle to each other and try and get it through one of the hoops to score a goal. Ten points every time the Quaffle goes through one of the hoops. Follow me?"

"The Chasers throw the Quaffle and put it through the hoops to score," Hiccup recited. "So - that's sort of like basketball on broomsticks with six hoops, isn't it?"

"What's basketball?" said Dornet curiously.

"Never mind," said Hiccup quickly.

"Now, there's another player on each side who's called the Keeper -I'm Keeper for Gryffindor. I have to fly around our hoops and stop the other team from scoring."

"Three Chasers, one Keeper," said Hiccup, who was determined to remember it all. "And they play with the Quaffle. Okay, got that. So what are they for?" He pointed at the three balls left inside the box.

"I'll show you now," said Dornet. "Take this."

He handed Hiccup a small club, a bit like a short baseball bat.

"I'm going to show you what the Bludgers do," Dornet said. "These two are the Bludgers."

He showed Hiccup two identical balls, jet black and slightly smaller than the red Quaffle. Hiccup noticed that they seemed to be straining to escape the straps holding them inside the box.

"Stand back," Dornet warned Hiccup. He bent down and freed one of the Bludgers.

At once, the black ball rose high in the air and then pelted straight at Hiccup's face. Hiccup swung at it with the bat to stop it from breaking his nose, and sent it zigzagging away into the air - it zoomed around their heads and then shot at Wood, who dived on top of it and managed to pin it to the ground.

"See?" Dornet panted, forcing the struggling Bludger back into the crate and strapping it down safely. "The Bludgers rocket around, trying to knock players off their brooms. That's why you have two Beaters on each team - the Weasley twins are ours - it's their job to protect their side from the Bludgers and try and knock them toward the other team. So- think you've got all that?"

"Three Chasers try and score with the Quaffle; the Keeper guards the goal posts; the Beaters keep the Bludgers away from their team," Hiccup reeled off.

"Very good," said Dornet.

"Er - have the Bludgers ever killed anyone?" Hiccup asked, hoping he sounded offhand.

"Never at Hogwarts. We've had a couple of broken jaws but nothing worse than that. Now, the last member of the team is the Seeker. That's you. And you don't have to worry about the Quaffle or the Bludgers unless they crack my head open."

"Don't worry, the Hoffersons are more than a match for the Bludgers - I mean, they're like a pair of human Bludgers themselves."

Dornet reached into the crate and took out the fourth and last ball. Compared with the Quaffle and the Bludgers, it was tiny, about the size of a large walnut. It was bright gold and had little fluttering silver wings.

"This," said Dornet, "is the Golden Snitch, and it's the most important ball of the lot. It's very hard to catch because it's so fast and difficult to see. It's the Seeker's job to catch it. You've got to weave in and out of the Chasers, Beaters, Bludgers, and Quaffle to get it before the other team's Seeker, because whichever Seeker catches the Snitch wins his team an extra hundred and fifty points, so they nearly always win. That's why Seekers get fouled so much. A game of Quidditch only ends when the Snitch is caught, so it can go on for ages- I think the record is three months, they had to keep bringing on substitutes so the players could get some sleep.

"Well, that's it - any questions?"

Hiccup shook his head. He understood what he had to do all right, it was doing it that was going to be the problem.

"We won't practice with the Snitch yet," said Dornet, carefully shutting it back inside the crate, "it's too dark, we might lose it. Let's try you out with a few of these."

He pulled a bag of ordinary golf balls out of his pocket and a few minutes later, he and Hiccup were up in the air, Dornet throwing the golf balls as hard as he could in every direction for Hiccup to catch.

Hiccup didn't miss a single one, and Dornet was delighted. After half an hour, night had really fallen and they couldn't carry on.

"That Quidditch cup'll have our name on it this year," said Dornet happily as they trudged back up to the castle. "I wouldn't be surprised if you turn out better than Magnus Hofferson, and he could have played for England if he hadn't gone off chasing dragons."

Perhaps it was because he was now so busy, what with Quidditch practice three evenings a week on top of all his homework, but Hiccup could hardly believe it when he realized that he'd already been at Hogwarts two months. The castle felt more like home than Privet Drive ever had. His lessons, too, were becoming more and more interesting now that they had mastered the basics.

On Halloween morning they woke to the delicious smell of baking pumpkin wafting through the corridors. Even better, Professor Flitwick announced in Charms that he thought they were ready to start making objects fly, something they had all been dying to try since they'd seen him make Drake's toad zoom around the classroom. Professor Flitwick put the class into pairs to practice. Hiccup's partner was Jonathan Atlas (which was a relief, because Drake had been trying to catch his eye). Fishlegs, however, was to be working with Camicazi Granger. It was hard to tell whether Fishlegs or Camicazi was angrier about this. She hadn't spoken to either of them since the day Hiccup's broomstick had arrived.

"Now, don't forget that nice wrist movement we've been practicing!" squeaked Professor Flitwick, perched on top of his pile of books as usual. "Swish and flick, remember, swish and flick. And saying the magic words properly is very important, too - never forget Wizard Baruffio, who said 's' instead of 'f' and found himself on the floor with a buffalo on his chest."

It was very difficult. Hiccup and Jonathan swished and flicked, but the feather they were supposed to be sending skyward just lay on the desktop. Jonathan got so impatient that he prodded it with his wand and set fire to it - Hiccup had to put it out with his hat.

Fishlegs, at the next table, wasn't having much more luck.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" he shouted, waving his long arms like a windmill.

"You're saying it wrong," Hiccup heard Camicazi snap. "It's Wing-gar-dium Levi-o-sa, make the 'gar' nice and long."

"You do it, then, if you're so clever," Fishlegs snarled.

Camicazi rolled up the sleeves of her gown, flicked her wand, and said, "Wingardium Leviosa!"

Their feather rose off the desk and hovered about four feet above their heads.

"Oh, well done!" cried Professor Flitwick, clapping. "Everyone see here, Miss Granger's done it!"

Fishlegs was in a very bad mood by the end of the class.

"It's no wonder no one can stand her," he said to Hiccup as they pushed their way into the crowded corridor, "she's a nightmare, honestly. "

Someone knocked into Hiccup as they hurried past him. It was Camicazi. Hiccup caught a glimpse of her face - and was startled to see that she was in tears.

"I think she heard you."

"So?" said Fishlegs, but he looked a bit uncomfortable. "She must've noticed she's got no friends."

Camicazi didn't turn up for the next class and wasn't seen all afternoon. On their way down to the Great Hall for the Halloween feast, Hiccup and Fishlegs overheard Parvati Patil telling her friend Lavender that Camicazi was crying in the girls' bathroom and wanted to be left alone. Fishlegs looked still more awkward at this, but a moment later they had entered the Great Hall, where the Halloween decorations put Camicazi out of their minds.

A thousand live bats fluttered from the walls and ceiling while a thousand more swooped over the tables in low black clouds, making the candles in the pumpkins stutter. The feast appeared suddenly on the golden plates, as it had at the start-of-term banquet.

Hiccup was just helping himself to a baked potato when Professor Quirrell came sprinting into the hall, his turban askew and terror on his face. Everyone stared as he reached Professor Thor's chair, slumped against the table, and gasped, "Troll - in the dungeons - thought you ought to know."

He then sank to the floor in a dead faint.

There was an uproar. It took several purple firecrackers exploding from the end of Professor Thor's wand to bring silence.

"Prefects," he rumbled, "lead your Houses back to the dormitories immediately!"

Trygve was in his element.

"Follow me! Stick together, first years! No need to fear the troll if you follow my orders! Stay close behind me, now. Make way, first years coming through! Excuse me, I'm a prefect!"

"How could a troll get in?" Hiccup asked as they climbed the stairs.

"Don't ask me, they're supposed to be really stupid," said Fishlegs. "Maybe Peeves let it in for a Halloween joke."

They passed different groups of people hurrying in different directions. As they jostled their way through a crowd of confused Hufflepuffs, Hiccup suddenly grabbed Fishlegs's arm.

"I've just thought - Camicazi."

"What about her?"

"She doesn't know about the troll."

Fishlegs bit his lip.

"Oh, all right," he snapped. "But Trygve'd better not see us."

Ducking down, they joined the Hufflepuffs going the other way, slipped down a deserted side corridor, and hurried off toward the girls' bathroom. They had just turned the corner when they heard quick footsteps behind them.

"Trygve!" hissed Fishlegs, pulling Hiccup behind a large stone griffin.

Peering around it, however, they saw not Trygve but Alvin. He crossed the corridor and disappeared from view.

"What's he doing?" Hiccup whispered. "Why isn't he down in the dungeons with the rest of the teachers?"

"Search me."

Quietly as possible, they crept along the next corridor after Alvin's fading footsteps.

"He's heading for the third floor," Hiccup said, but Fishlegs held up his hand.

"Can you smell something?"

Hiccup sniffed and a foul stench reached his nostrils, a mixture of old socks and the kind of public toilet no one seems to clean.

And then they heard it - a low grunting, and the shuffling footfalls of gigantic feet. Fishlegs pointed - at the end of a passage to the left, something huge was moving toward them. They shrank into the shadows and watched as it emerged into a patch of moonlight.

It was a horrible sight. Twelve feet tall, its skin was a dull, granite gray, its great lumpy body like a boulder with its small bald head perched on top like a coconut. It had short legs thick as tree trunks with flat, horny feet. The smell coming from it was incredible. It was holding a huge wooden club, which dragged along the floor because its arms were so long.

The troll stopped next to a doorway and peered inside. It waggled its long ears, making up its tiny mind, then slouched slowly into the room.

"The keys in the lock," Hiccup muttered. "We could lock it in."

"Good idea," said Fishlegs nervously.

They edged toward the open door, mouths dry, praying the troll wasn't about to come out of it. With one great leap, Hiccup managed to grab the key, slam the door, and lock it.

'Yes!"

Flushed with their victory, they started to run back up the passage, but as they reached the corner they heard something that made their hearts stop - a high, petrified scream - and it was coming from the chamber they'd just chained up.

"Oh, no," said Fishlegs, pale as the Bloody Baron.

"It's the girls' bathroom!" Hiccup gasped.

"Camicazi!" they said together.

It was the last thing they wanted to do, but what choice did they have? Wheeling around, they sprinted back to the door and turned the key, fumbling in their panic. Hiccup pulled the door open and they ran inside.

Camicazi Granger was shrinking against the wall opposite, looking as if she was about to faint. The troll was advancing on her, knocking the sinks off the walls as it went.

"Confuse it!" Hiccup said desperately to Fishlegs, and, seizing a tap, he threw it as hard as he could against the wall.

The troll stopped a few feet from Hermione. It lumbered around, blinking stupidly, to see what had made the noise. Its mean little eyes saw Hiccup. It hesitated, then made for him instead, lifting its club as it went.

"Oy, pea-brain!" yelled Fishlegs from the other side of the chamber, and he threw a metal pipe at it. The troll didn't even seem to notice the pipe hitting its shoulder, but it heard the yell and paused again, turning its ugly snout toward Ron instead, giving Hiccup time to run around it.

"Come on, run, run!" Hiccup yelled at Camicazi, trying to pull her toward the door, but she couldn't move, she was still flat against the wall, her mouth open with terror.

The shouting and the echoes seemed to be driving the troll berserk. It roared again and started toward Fishlegs, who was nearest and had no way to escape.

Hiccup then did something that was both very brave and very stupid: He took a great running jump and managed to fasten his arms around the troll's neck from behind. The troll couldn't feel Hiccup hanging there, but even a troll will notice if you stick a long bit of wood up its nose, and Hiccup's wand had still been in his hand when he'd jumped - it had gone straight up one of the troll's nostrils.

Howling with pain, the troll twisted and flailed its club, with Hiccup clinging on for dear life; any second, the troll was going to rip him off or catch him a terrible blow with the club.

Camicazi had sunk to the floor in fright; Fishlegs pulled out his own wand -not knowing what he was going to do he heard himself cry the first spell that came into his head: "Wingardium Leviosa!"

The club flew suddenly out of the troll's hand, rose high, high up into the air, turned slowly over - and dropped, with a sickening crack, onto its owner's head. The troll swayed on the spot and then fell flat on its face, with a thud that made the whole room tremble.

Hiccup got to his feet. He was shaking and out of breath. Fishlegs was standing there with his wand still raised, staring at what he had done.

It was Camicazi who spoke first.

"Is it - dead?"

I don't think so," said Hiccup, I think it's just been knocked out."

He bent down and pulled his wand out of the troll's nose. It was covered in what looked like lumpy gray glue.

"Urgh - troll boogers."

He wiped it on the troll's trousers.

A sudden slamming and loud footsteps made the three of them look up. They hadn't realized what a racket they had been making, but of course, someone downstairs must have heard the crashes and the troll's roars. A moment later, Professor Gothi had come bursting into the room, closely followed by Alvin, with Quirrell bringing up the rear. Quirrell took one look at the troll, let out a faint whimper, and sat quickly down on a toilet, clutching his heart.

Alvin bent over the troll. Professor Gothi was looking at Fishlegs and Hiccup. Hiccup had never seen her look so angry. Her lips were white. Hopes of winning fifty points for Gryffindor faded quickly from Hiccup's mind.

"What on earth were you thinking of?" said Professor Gothi, with cold fury in her voice. Hiccup looked at Fishlegs, who was still standing with his wand in the air. "You're lucky you weren't killed. Why aren't you in your dormitory?"

Alvin gave Hiccup a swift, piercing look. Hiccup looked at the floor. He wished Fishlegs would put his wand down.

Then a small voice came out of the shadows.

"Please, Professor Gothi - they were looking for me."

"Miss Granger!"

Camicazi had managed to get to her feet at last.

I went looking for the troll because I - I thought I could deal with it on my own - you know, because I've read all about them."

Fishlegs dropped his wand. Camicazi Granger, telling a downright lie to a teacher?

"If they hadn't found me, I'd be dead now. Hiccup stuck his wand up its nose and Fishlegs knocked it out with its own club. They didn't have time to come and fetch anyone. It was about to finish me off when they arrived."

Hiccup and Fishlegs tried to look as though this story wasn't new to them.

"Well - in that case..." said Professor Gothi, staring at the three of them, "Miss Granger, you foolish girl, how could you think of tackling a mountain troll on your own?"

Camicazi hung her head. Hiccup was speechless. Camicazi was the last person to do anything against the rules, and here she was, pretending she had, to get them out of trouble. It was as if Alvin had started handing out sweets.

"Miss Granger, five points will be taken from Gryffindor for this," said Professor Gothi. "I'm very disappointed in you. If you're not hurt at all, you'd better get off to Gryffindor tower. Students are finishing the feast in their houses."

Camicazi left.

Professor Gothi turned to Hiccup and Fishlegs.

"Well, I still say you were lucky, but not many first years could have taken on a full-grown mountain troll. You each win Gryffindor five points. Professor Thor will be informed of this. You may go."

They hurried out of the chamber and didn't speak at all until they had climbed two floors up. It was a relief to be away from the smell of the troll, quite apart from anything else.

"We should have gotten more than ten points," Fishlegs grumbled.

"Five, you mean, once she's taken off Camicazi's."

"Good of her to get us out of trouble like that," Fishlegs admitted. "Mind you, we did save her."

"She might not have needed saving if we hadn't locked the thing in with her," Hiccup reminded him.

They had reached the portrait of the Fat Lady.

"Pig snout," they said and entered.

The common room was packed and noisy. Everyone was eating the food that had been sent up. Camicazi, however, stood alone by the door, waiting for them. There was a very embarrassed pause. Then, none of them looking at each other, they all said "Thanks," and hurried off to get plates.

But from that moment on, Camicazi Granger became their friend. There are some things you can't share without ending up liking each other, and knocking out a twelve-foot mountain troll is one of them.


	14. Quidditch

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Quidditch

As they entered November, the weather turned very cold. The mountains around the school became icy gray and the lake like chilled steel. Every morning the ground was covered in frost. Mulch could be seen from the upstairs windows defrosting broomsticks on the Quidditch field, bundled up in a long moleskin overcoat, rabbit fur gloves, and enormous beaverskin boots.

The Quidditch season had begun. On Saturday, Hiccup would be playing in his first match after weeks of training: Gryffindor versus Slytherin. If Gryffindor won, they would move up into second place in the house championship.

Hardly anyone had seen Hiccup play because Wood had decided that, as their secret weapon, Hiccup should be kept, well, secret. But the news that he was playing Seeker had leaked out somehow, and Hiccup didn't know which was worse - people telling him he'd be brilliant or people telling him they'd be running around underneath him holding a mattress.

It was really lucky that Hiccup now had Camicazi as a friend. He didn't know how he'd have gotten through all his homework without her, what with all the last-minute Quidditch practice Wood was making them do. She had also tent him Quidditch Through the Ages, which turned out to be a very interesting read.

Hiccup learned that there were seven hundred ways of committing a Quidditch foul and that all of them had happened during a World Cup match in 1473; that Seekers were usually the smallest and fastest players, and that most serious Quidditch accidents seemed to happen to them; that although people rarely died playing Quidditch, referees had been known to vanish and turn up months later in the Sahara Desert.

Camicazi had become a bit more relaxed about breaking rules since Hiccup and Fishlegs had saved her from the mountain troll, and she was much nicer for it. The day before Hiccup's first Quidditch match the three of them were out in the freezing courtyard during break, and she had conjured them up a bright blue fire that could be carried around in a jam jar. They were standing with their backs to it, getting warm, when Alvin crossed the yard. Hiccup noticed at once that Alvin was limping. Hiccup, Fishlegs, and Camicazi moved closer together to block the fire from view; they were sure it wouldn't be allowed. Unfortunately, something about their guilty faces caught Alvin's eye. He limped over. He hadn't seen the fire, but he seemed to be looking for a reason to tell them off anyway.

"What's that you've got there, Haddock?"

It was Quidditch Through the Ages. Hiccup showed him.

"Library books are not to be taken outside the school," said Alvin. "Give it to me. Five points from Gryffindor."

"He's just made that rule up," Hiccup muttered angrily as Alvin limped away. "Wonder what's wrong with his leg?"

"Dunno, but I hope it's really hurting him," said Fishlegs bitterly.

The Gryffindor common room was very noisy that evening. Hiccup, Fishlegs, and Hermione sat together next to a window. Camicazi was checking Hiccup and Fishlegs's Charms homework for them. She would never let them copy ("How will you learn?"), but by asking her to read it through, they got the right answers anyway.

Hiccup felt restless. He wanted Quidditch Through the Ages back, to take his mind off his nerves about tomorrow. Why should he be afraid of Alvin? Getting up, he told Fishlegs and Camicazi he was going to ask Alvin if he could have it.

"Better you than me," they said together, but Hiccup had an idea that Alvin wouldn't refuse if there were other teachers listening.

He made his way down to the staffroom and knocked. There was no answer. He knocked again. Nothing.

Perhaps Alvin had left the book in there? It was worth a try. He pushed the door ajar and peered inside - and a horrible scene met his eyes.

Alvin and Mildew were inside, alone. Alvin was holding his robes above his knees. One of his legs was bloody and mangled. Mildew was handing Alvin bandages.

"Blasted thing*," Alvin was saying. "How are you supposed to keep your eyes on all three heads at once?"

Hiccup tried to shut the door quietly, but -

"HADDOCK!"

Alvin's face was twisted with fury as he dropped his robes quickly to hide his leg. Hiccup gulped.

"I just wondered if I could have my book back."

"GET OUT! OUT!"

Hiccup left, before Alvin could take any more points from Gryffindor. He sprinted back upstairs.

"Did you get it?" Fishlegs asked as Hiccup joined them. "What's the matter?"

In a low whisper, Hiccup told them what he'd seen.

"You know what this means?" he finished breathlessly. "He tried to get past that three-headed dog at Halloween! That's where he was going when we saw him - he's after whatever it's guarding! And Id bet my broomstick he let that troll in, to make a diversion!"

Camicazi's eyes were wide.

"No - he wouldn't, she said. "I know he's not very nice, but he wouldn't try and steal something Thor was keeping safe."

"Honestly, Camicazi, you think all teachers are saints or something," snapped Fishlegs. "I'm with Hiccup. I wouldn't put anything past Alvin. But what's he after? What's that dog guarding?"

Hiccup went to bed with his head buzzing with the same question. Drake was snoring loudly, but Hiccup couldn't sleep. He tried to empty his mind- he needed to sleep, he had to, he had his first Quidditch match in a few hours - but the expression on Alvin's face when Hiccup had seen his leg wasn't easy to forget.

The next morning dawned very bright and cold. The Great Hall was full of the delicious smell of fried sausages and the cheer ful chatter of everyone looking forward to a good Quidditch match.

"You've got to eat some breakfast."

"I don't want anything."

"Just a bit of toast," wheedled Camicazi.

"I'm not hungry."

Hiccup felt terrible. In an hour's time he'd be walking onto the field.

"Hiccup, you need your strength," said Jonathan Atlas. "Seekers are always the ones who get clobbered by the other team."

"Thanks, Jonathan," said Hiccup, watching Jonathan pile ketchup on his sausages.

By eleven o'clock the whole school seemed to be out in the stands around the Quidditch pitch. Many students had binoculars. The seats might be raised high in the air, but it was still difficult to see what was going on sometimes.

Fishlegs and Camicazi joined Drake, Jonathan, and Dean the West Ham fan up in the top row. As a surprise for Hiccup, they had painted a large banner on one of the sheets Meatlug had ruined. It said Haddock for President, and Dean, who was good at drawing, had done a large Gryffindor lion underneath. Then Camicazi had performed a tricky little charm so that the paint flashed different colors.

Meanwhile, in the locker room, Hiccup and the rest of the team were changing into their scarlet Quidditch robes (Slytherin would be playing in green).

Dornet cleared his throat for silence.

"Okay, men," he said.

"And women," said Chaser Angelina Johnson.

"And women," Dornet agreed. "This is it."

"The big one," said Tuffnut Hofferson.

"The one we've all been waiting for," said Ruffnut.

"We know Vali's speech by heart," Tuffnut told Hiccup, "we were on the team last year."

"Shut up, you two," said Dornet. "This is the best team Gryffindor's had in years. We're going to win. I know it."

He glared at them all as if to say, "Or else."

"Right. It's time. Good luck, all of you."

Hiccup followed Tuffnut and Ruffnut out of the locker room and, hoping his knees weren't going to give way, walked onto the field to loud cheers.

Madam Hooch was refereeing. She stood in the middle of the field waiting for the two teams, her broom in her hand.

"Now, I want a nice fair game, all of you," she said, once they were all gathered around her. Hiccup noticed that she seemed to be speaking particularly to the Slytherin Captain, Marcus Flint, a sixth year. Hiccup thought Flint looked as if he had some troll blood in him. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the fluttering banner high above, flashing Haddock for President over the crowd. His heart skipped. He felt braver.

"Mount your brooms, please."

Hiccup clambered onto his Nimbus Two Thousand.

Madam Hooch gave a loud blast on her silver whistle.

Fifteen brooms rose up, high, high into the air. They were off. "And the

Quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor - what an excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive, too -"

"JORDAN!"

"Sorry, Professor."

The Hofferson twins' friend, Lee Jordan, was doing the commentary for the match, closely watched by Professor Gothi.

"And she's really belting along up there, a neat pass to Alicia Spinnet, a good find of Vali Dornet's, last year only a reserve - back to Johnson and - no, the Slytherins have taken the Quaffle, Slytherin Captain Marcus Flint gains the Quaffle and off he goes - Flint flying like an eagle up there - he's going to sc- no, stopped by an excellent move by Gryffindor Keeper Wood and the Gryffindors take the Quaffle -that's Chaser Katie Bell of Gryffindor there, nice dive around Flint, off up the field and - OUCH - that must have hurt, hit in the back of the head by a Bludger - Quaffle taken by the Slytherins - that's Adrian Pucey speeding off toward the goal posts, but he's blocked by a second Bludger - sent his way by Tuffnut or Ruffnut Hofferson, can't tell which - nice play by the Gryffindor Beater, anyway, and Johnson back in possession of the Quaffle, a clear field ahead and off she goes - she's really flying - dodges a speeding Bludger - the goal posts are ahead- come on, now, Angelina - Keeper Bletchley dives - misses -GRYFFINDORS SCORE!"

Gryffindor cheers filled the cold air, with howls and moans from the Slytherins.

"Budge up there, move along."

"Mulch!"

Fishlegs and Camicazi squeezed together to give Mulch enough space to join them.

"Bin watchin' from me hut," said Mulch, patting a large pair of binoculars around his neck, "But it isn't the same as bein' in the crowd. No sign of the Snitch yet, eh?"

"Nope," said Fishlegs. "Hiccup hasn't had much to do yet."

"Kept outta trouble, though, that's somethin'," said Mulch, raising his binoculars and peering skyward at the speck that was Hiccup.

Way up above them, Hiccup was gliding over the game, squinting about for some sign of the Snitch. This was part of his and Wood's game plan.

"Keep out of the way until you catch sight of the Snitch," Dornet had said. "We don't want you attacked before you have to be."

When Angelina had scored, Hiccup had done a couple of loop-the-loops to let off his feelings. Now he was back to staring around for the Snitch. Once he caught sight of a flash of gold, but it was just a reflection from one of the Hofferson's wristwatches, and once a Bludger decided to come pelting his way, more like a cannonball than anything, but Hiccup dodged it and Tuffnut Hofferson came chasing after it.

"All right there, Hiccup?" he had time to yell, as he beat the Bludger furiously toward Marcus Flint.

"Slytherin in possession," Lee Jordan was saying, "Chaser Pucey ducks two Bludgers, two Hoffersons, and Chaser Bell, and speeds toward the - wait a moment - was that the Snitch?"

A murmur ran through the crowd as Adrian Pucey dropped the Quaffle, too busy looking over his shoulder at the flash of gold that had passed his left ear.

Hiccup saw it. In a great rush of excitement he dived downward after the streak of gold. Slytherin Seeker Terence Higgs had seen it, too. Neck and neck they hurtled toward the Snitch -all the Chasers seemed to have forgotten what they were supposed to be doing as they hung in midair to watch.

Hiccup was faster than Higgs - he could see the little round ball, wings fluttering, darting up ahead - - he put on an extra spurt of speed -

WHAM! A roar of rage echoed from the Gryffindors below - Marcus Flint had blocked Hiccup on purpose, and Hiccup's broom spun off course, Hiccup holding on for dear life.

"Foul!" screamed the Gryffindors.

Madam Hooch spoke angrily to Flint and then ordered a free shot at the goal posts for Gryffindor. But in all the confusion, of course, the Golden Snitch had disappeared from sight again.

Down in the stands, Dean Thomas was yelling, "Send him off, ref! Red card!"

"What are you talking about, Dean?" said Fishlegs.

"Red card!" said Dean furiously. "In soccer you get shown the red card and you're out of the game!"

"But this isn't soccer, Dean," Fishlegs reminded him.

Mulch, however, was on Dean's side.

"They oughta change the rules. Flint coulda knocked Harry outta the air."

Lee Jordan was finding it difficult not to take sides.

"So - after that obvious and disgusting bit of cheating

"Jordan!" growled Professor Gothi.

"I mean, after that open and revolting foul

'Jordan, I'm warning you -"

"All right, all right. Flint nearly kills the Gryffindor Seeker, which could happen to anyone, I'm sure, so a penalty to Gryffindor, taken by Spinner, who puts it away, no trouble, and we continue play, Gryffindor still in possession."

It was as Hiccup dodged another Bludger, which went spinning dangerously past his head, that it happened. His broom gave a sudden, frightening lurch. For a split second, he thought he was going to fall. He gripped the broom tightly with both his hands and knees. He'd never felt anything like that.

It happened again. It was as though the broom was trying to buck him off. But Nimbus Two Thousands did not suddenly decide to buck their riders off. Hiccup tried to turn back toward the Gryffindor goal- posts- he had half a mind to ask Wood to call time-out - and then he realized that his broom was completely out of his control. He couldn't turn it. He couldn't direct it at all. It was zigzagging through the air, and every now and then making violent swishing movements that almost unseated him.

Lee was still commentating.

"Slytherin in possession - Flint with the Quaffle - passes Spinnet -passes Bell - hit hard in the face by a Bludger, hope it broke his nose- only joking, Professor - Slytherins score - A no...

The Slytherins were cheering. No one seemed to have noticed that Hiccup's broom was behaving strangely. It was carrying- him slowly higher, away from the game, jerking and twitching as it went.

"Dunno what Hiccup thinks he's doing," Mulch mumbled. He stared through his binoculars. "If I didn' know better, I'd say he'd lost control of his broom... but he can't have..."

Suddenly, people were pointing up at Hiccup all over the stands. His broom had started to roll over and over, with him only just managing to hold on. Then the whole crowd gasped. Hiccup's broom had given a wild jerk and Hiccup swung off it. He was now dangling from it, holding on with only one hand.

"Did something happen to it when Flint blocked him?" Jonathan whispered.

"Can't have," Mulch said, his voice shaking. "Can't nothing interfere with a broomstick except powerful Dark magic - no kid could do that to a Nimbus Two Thousand."

At these words, Camicazi seized Mulch's binoculars, but instead of looking up at Hiccup, she started looking frantically at the crowd.

"What are you doing?" moaned Fishlegs, gray-faced.

"I knew it," Camicazi gasped, "Alvin - look."

Fishlegs grabbed the binoculars. Alvin was in the middle of the stands opposite them. He had his eyes fixed on Hiccup and was muttering nonstop under his breath.

"He's doing something - jinxing the broom," said Camicazi.

"What should we do?"

"Leave it to me."

Before Fishlegs could say another word, Camicazi had disappeared. Fishlegs turned the binoculars back on Hiccup. His broom was vibrating so hard, it was almost impossible for him to hang on much longer. The whole crowd was on its feet, watching, terrified, as the Hoffersons flew up to try and pull Hiccup safely onto one of their brooms, but it was no good - every time they got near him, the broom would jump higher still. They dropped lower and circled beneath him, obviously hoping to catch him if he fell. Marcus Flint seized the Quaffle and scored five times without anyone noticing.

"Come on, Camicazi," Fishlegs muttered desperately.

Camicazi had fought her way across to the stand where Alvin stood, and was now racing along the row behind him; she didn't even stop to say sorry as she knocked Professor Quirrell headfirst into the row in front. Reaching Alvin, she crouched down, pulled out her wand, and whispered a few, well- chosen words. Bright blue flames shot from her wand onto the hem of Alvin's robes.

It took perhaps thirty seconds for Alvin to realize that he was on fire. A sudden yelp told her she had done her job. Scooping the fire off him into a little jar in her pocket, she scrambled back along the row -Alvin would never know what had happened.

It was enough. Up in the air, Hiccup was suddenly able to clamber back on to his broom.

"Drake, you can look!" Fishlegs said. Drake had been sobbing into Mulch's jacket for the last five minutes.

Hiccup was speeding toward the ground when the crowd saw him clap his hand to his mouth as though he was about to be sick - he hit the field on all fours - coughed - and something gold fell into his hand.

"I've got the Snitch!" he shouted, waving it above his head, and the game ended in complete confusion.

"He didn't catch it, he nearly swallowed it," Flint was still howling twenty minutes later, but it made no difference - Hiccup hadn't broken any rules and Lee Jordan was still happily shouting the results -Gryffindor had won by one hundred and seventy points to sixty. Hiccup heard none of this, though. He was being made a cup of strong tea back in Mulch's hut, with Fishlegs and Camicazi.

"It was Alvin," Fishlegs was explaining, "Camicazi and I saw him. He was cursing your broomstick, muttering, he wouldn't take his eyes off you."

"Rubbish," said Mulch, who hadn't heard a word of what had gone on next to him in the stands. "Why would Alvin do somethin' like that?"

Hiccup, Fishlegs, and Camicazi looked at one another, wondering what to tell him. Hiccup decided on the truth.

"I found out something about him," he told Hagrid. "He tried to get past that three-headed dog on Halloween. It bit him. We think he was trying to steal whatever it's guarding."

Mulch dropped the teapot.

"How do you know about Fluffy?" he said.

"Fluffy?"

"Yeah - he's mine - bought him off a Greek chappie I met in the pub las' year - I lent him to Thor to guard the

"Yes?" said Hiccup eagerly.

"Now, don't ask me anymore," said Mulch gruffly. "That's top secret, that is."

"But Alvin's trying to steal it."

"Rubbish," said Mulch again. "Alvin's a Hogwarts teacher, he'd do nothin' of the sort."

"So why did he just try and kill Hiccup?" cried Camicazi.

The afternoon's events certainly seemed to have changed her mind about Alvin.

I know a jinx when I see one, Mulch, I've read all about them! You've got to keep eye contact, and Alvin wasn't blinking at all, I saw him!"

"I'm tellin' yeh, yer wrong!" said Mulch hotly. "I don' know why Hiccup's broom acted like that, but Alvin wouldn' try an' kill a student! Now, listen to me, all three of yeh - yer meddlin' in things that don' concern yeh. It's dangerous. You forget that dog, an' you forget what it's guardin', that's between Professor Thor an' Nicolas Flamel-"

"Aha!" said Hiccup, "so there's someone called Nicolas Flamel involved, is there?"

Mulch looked furious with himself.

**If you want me to switch the cast members, private message me**


	15. The Mirror Of Erised

CHAPTER TWELVE

The Mirror Of Erised

Christmas was coming. One morning in mid-December, Hogwarts woke to find itself covered in several feet of snow. The lake froze solid and the Weasley twins were punished for bewitching several snowballs so that they followed Quirrell around, bouncing off the back of his turban. The few owls that managed to battle their way through the stormy sky to deliver mail had to be nursed back to health by Hagrid before they could fly off again.

No one could wait for the holidays to start. While the Gryffindor common room and the Great Hall had roaring fires, the drafty corridors had become icy and a bitter wind rattled the windows in the classrooms. Worst of all were Professor Alvin's classes down in the dungeons, where their breath rose in a mist before them and they kept as close as possible to their hot cauldrons.

"I do feel so sorry," said Valence Malfoy, one Potions class, "for all those people who have to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas because they're not wanted at home."

He was looking over at Hiccup as he spoke. Ivar and Gisle chuckled. Hiccup, who was measuring out powdered spine of lionfish, ignored them. Malfoy had been even more unpleasant than usual since the Quidditch match. Disgusted that the Slytherins had lost, he had tried to get everyone laughing at how a wide-mouthed tree frog would be replacing Hiccup as Seeker next. Then he'd realized that nobody found this funny, because they were all so impressed at the way Hiccup had managed to stay on his bucking broomstick. So Malfoy, jealous and angry, had gone back to taunting Hiccup about having no proper family.

It was true that Hiccup wasn't going back to Privet Drive for Christmas. Professor Gothi had come around the week before, making a list of students who would be staying for the holidays, and Hiccup had signed up at once. He didn't feel sorry for himself at all; this would probably be the best Christmas he'd ever had. Fishlegs and his siblings were staying, too, because Mr. and Mrs. Hofferson were going to Romania to visit Magnus.

When they left the dungeons at the end of Potions, they found a large fir tree blocking the corridor ahead. Two enormous feet sticking out at the bottom and a loud puffing sound told them that Mulch was behind it.

"Hi, Mulch, want any help?" Fishlegs asked, sticking his head through the branches.

"Nah, I'm all right, thanks, Fishlegs."

"Would you mind moving out of the way?" came Malfoys cold drawl from behind them. "Are you trying to earn some extra money, Hofferson? Hoping to be gamekeeper yourself when you leave Hogwarts, I suppose - that hut of Mulch's must seem like a palace compared to what your family's used to."

Fishlegs dived at Malfoy just as Alvin came up the stairs.

"HOFFERSON!"

Fishlegs let go of the front of Malfoy's robes.

"He was provoked, Professor Alvin," said Mulch, sticking his huge hairy face out from behind the tree. "Malfoy was insultin' his family."

"Be that as it may, fighting is against Hogwarts rules, Mulch," said Alvin silkily. "Five points from Gryffindor, Weasley, and be grateful it isn't more. Move along, all of you."

Malfoy, Ivar, and Gisle pushed roughly past the tree, scattering needles everywhere and smirking.

"I'll get him," said Fishlegs, grinding his teeth at Malfoy's back, "one of these days, I'll get him -"

"I hate them both," said Hiccup, "Malfoy and Alvin."

"Come on, cheer up, it's nearly Christmas," said Mulch. "Tell yeh what, come with me an' see the Great Hall, looks a treat."

So the three of them followed Mulch and his tree off to -the Great Hall, where Professor Gothi and Professor Flitwick were busy with the Christmas decorations.

"Ah, Mulch, the last tree - put it in the far corner, would you?"

The hall looked spectacular. Festoons of holly and mistletoe hung all around the walls, and no less than twelve towering Christmas trees stood around the room, some sparkling with tiny icicles, some glittering with hundreds of candles.

"How many days you got left until yer holidays?" Mulch asked.

"Just one," said Camicazi. "And that reminds me -Hiccup, Fishlegs, we've got half an hour before lunch, we should be in the library."

"Oh yeah, you're right," said Fishlegs, tearing his eyes away from Professor Flitwick, who had golden bubbles blossoming out of his wand and was trailing them over the branches of the new tree.

"The library?" said Mulch, following them out of the hall. "Just before the holidays? Bit keen, aren't yeh?"

"Oh, we're not working," Hiccup told him brightly. "Ever since you mentioned Nicolas Flamel we've been trying to find out who he is."

"You what?" Mulch looked shocked. "Listen here - I've told yeh - drop it. It's nothin' to you what that dog's guardin'."

"We just want to know who Nicolas Flamel is, that's all," said Camicazi.

"Unless you'd like to tell us and save us the trouble?" Hiccup added. "We must've been through hundreds of books already and we can't find him anywhere - just give us a hint - I know I've read his name somewhere."

"I'm sayin' nothin, said Mulch flatly.

"Just have to find out for ourselves, then," said Fishlegs, and they left Mulch looking disgruntled and hurried off to the library.

They had indeed been searching books for Flamel's name ever since Mulch had let it slip, because how else were they going to find out what Alvin was trying to steal? The trouble was, it was very hard to know where to begin, not knowing what Flamel might have done to get himself into a book. He wasn't in Great Wizards of the Twentieth Century, or Notable Magical Names of Our Time; he was missing, too, from Important Modern Magical Discoveries, and A Study of Recent Developments in Wizardry. And then, of course, there was the sheer size of the library; tens of thousands of books; thousands of shelves; hundreds of narrow rows.

Camicazi took out a list of subjects and titles she had decided to search while Fishlegs strode off down a row of books and started pulling them off the shelves at random. Hiccup wandered over to the Restricted Section. He had been wondering for a while if Flamel wasn't somewhere in there. Unfortunately, you needed a specially signed note from one of the teachers to look in any of the restricted books, and he knew he'd never get one. These were the books containing powerful Dark Magic never taught at Hogwarts, and only read by older students studying advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts.

"What are you looking for, boy?"

"Nothing," said Hiccup.

Madam Pince the librarian brandished a feather duster at him.

"You'd better get out, then. Go on - out!"

Wishing he'd been a bit quicker at thinking up some story, Hiccup left the library. He, Fishlegs, and Camicazi had already agreed they'd better not ask Madam Pince where they could find Flamel. They were sure she'd be able to tell them, but they couldn't risk Alvin hearing what they were up to.

Hiccup waited outside in the corridor to see if the other two had found anything, but he wasn't very hopeful. They had been looking for two weeks, after A, but as they only had odd moments between lessons it wasn't surprising they'd found nothing. What they really needed was a nice long search without Madam Pince breathing down their necks.

Five minutes later, Fishlegs and Camicazi joined him, shaking their heads. They went off to lunch.

"You will keep looking while I'm away, won't you?" said Camicazi. "And send me an owl if you find anything."

"And you could ask your parents if they know who Flamel is," said Fishlegs. "It'd be safe to ask them."

"Very safe, as they're both dentists," said Camicazi.

Once the holidays had started, Fishlegs and Hiccup were having too good a time to think much about Flamel. They had the dormitory to themselves and the common room was far emptier than usual, so they were able to get the good armchairs by the fire. They sat by the hour eating anything they could spear on a toasting fork - bread, English muffins, marshmallows- and plotting ways of getting Malfoy expelled, which were fun to talk about even if they wouldn't work.

Fishlegs also started teaching Hiccup wizard chess. This was exactly like Muggle chess except that the figures were alive, which made it a lot like directing troops in battle. Fishlegs's set was very old and battered. Like everything else he owned, it had once belonged to someone else in his family - in this case, his grandfather. However, old chessmen weren't a drawback at all. Fishlegs knew them so well he never had trouble getting them to do what he wanted.

Hiccup played with chessmen Jonathan Atlas had lent him, and they didn't trust him at all. He wasn't a very good player yet and they kept shouting different bits of advice at him, which was confusing. "Don't send me there, can't you see his knight? Send him, we can afford to lose him."

On Christmas Eve, Hiccup went to bed looking forward to the next day for the food and the fun, but not expecting any presents at all. When he woke early in the morning, however, the first thing he saw was a small pile of packages at the foot of his bed.

"Merry Christmas," said Fishlegs sleepily as Hiccup scrambled out of bed and pulled on his bathrobe.

"You, too," said Hiccup. "Will you look at this? I've got some presents!"

"What did you expect, turnips?" said Fishlegs, turning to his own pile, which was a lot bigger than Hiccup's.

Hiccup picked up the top parcel. It was wrapped in thick brown paper and scrawled across it was To Hiccup, from Mulch. Inside was a roughly cut wooden flute. Mulch had obviously whittled it himself. Hiccup blew it -it sounded a bit like an owl.

A second, very small parcel contained a note.

We received your message and enclose your Christmas present. From Uncle Spitelout and Aunt Freda. Taped to the note was a fifty-pence piece.

"That's friendly," said Hiccup.

Fishlegs was fascinated by the fifty pence.

"Weird!" he said, 'NMat a shape! This is money?"

"You can keep it," said Hiccup, laughing at how pleased Fishlegs was. "Mulch and my aunt and uncle - so who sent these?"

"I think I know who that one's from," said Fishlegs, turning a bit pink and pointing to a very lumpy parcel. "My mom. I told her you didn't expect any presents and - oh, no," he groaned, "she's made you a Hofferson sweater."

Hiccup had torn open the parcel to find a thick, hand-knitted sweater in emerald green and a large box of homemade fudge.

"Every year she makes us a sweater," said Fishlegs, unwrapping his own, "and mine's always maroon."

"That's really nice of her," said Hiccup, trying the fudge, which was very tasty.

His next present also contained candy - a large box of Chocolate Frogs from Camicazi.

This only left one parcel. Hiccup picked it up and felt it. It was very light. He unwrapped it.

Something fluid and silvery gray went slithering to the floor where it lay in gleaming folds. Fishlegs gasped.

"I've heard of those," he said in a hushed voice, dropping the box of Every Flavor Beans he'd gotten from Camicazi. "If that's what I think it is - they're really rare, and really valuable."

"What is it?"

Hiccup picked the shining, silvery cloth off the floor. It was strange to the touch, like water woven into material.

"It's an invisibility cloak," said Fishlegs, a look of awe on his face. "I'm sure it is - try it on."

Hiccup threw the cloak around his shoulders and Fishlegs gave a yell.

"It is! Look down!"

Hiccup looked down at his feet, but they were gone. He dashed to the mirror. Sure enough, his reflection looked back at him, just his head suspended in midair, his body completely invisible. He pulled the cloak over his head and his reflection vanished completely.

"There's a note!" said Fishlegs suddenly. "A note fell out of it!"

Hiccup pulled off the cloak and seized the letter.

Written in narrow, loopy writing he had never seen before were the following words: Your father left this in my possession before he died. It is time it was returned to you. Use it well.

A Very Merry Christmas to you.

There was no signature. Hiccup stared at the note. Fishlegs was admiring the cloak.

"I'd give anything for one of these," he said. "Anything. What's the matter?"

"Nothing," said Hiccup. He felt very strange. Who had sent the cloak? Had it really once belonged to his father?

Before he could say or think anything else, the dormitory door was flung open and Tuffnut and Ruffnut Hofferson bounded in. Hiccup stuffed the cloak quickly out of sight. He didn't feel like sharing it with anyone else yet.

"Merry Christmas!"

"Hey, look - Hiccup's got a Hofferson sweater, too!"

Tuffnut and Ruffnut were wearing blue sweaters, one with a large yellow T on it, the other a R.

"Hiccup's is better than ours, though," said Tuffnut, holding up Hiccup's sweater. "She obviously makes more of an effort if you're not family."

"Why aren't you wearing yours, Fishlegs?" Ruffnut demanded. "Come on, get it on, they're lovely and warm."

"I hate maroon," Fishlegs moaned halfheartedly as he pulled it over his head.

"You haven't got a letter on yours," Ruffnut observed. "I suppose she thinks you don't forget your name. But we're not stupid - we know we're called Ruffie and Tuffie."

"What's all th is noise.

Trygve Weasley stuck his head through the door, looking disapproving. He had clearly gotten halfway through unwrapping his presents as he, too, carried a lumpy sweater over his arm, which Tuffnut seized.

"P for prefect! Get it on, Trygve, come on, we're all wearing ours, even Hiccup got one."

"I - don't - want said Trygve thickly, as the twins forced the sweater over his head, knocking his glasses askew.

"And you're not sitting with the prefects today, either," said Ruffnut. "Christmas is a time for family."

They frog-marched Trygve from the room, his arms pinned to his side by his sweater.

Hiccup had never in all his life had such a Christmas dinner. A hundred fat, roast turkeys; mountains of roast and boiled potatoes; platters of chipolatas; tureens of buttered peas, silver boats of thick, rich gravy and cranberry sauce - and stacks of wizard crackers every few feet along the table. These fantastic party favors were nothing like the feeble Muggle ones the Jorgensons usually bought, with their little plastic toys and their flimsy paper hats inside. Hiccup pulled a wizard cracker with Tuffnut and it didn't just bang, it went off with a blast like a cannon and engulfed them all in a cloud of blue smoke, while from the inside exploded a rear admiral's hat and several live, white mice. Up at the High Table, Thor had swapped his pointed wizard's hat for a flowered bonnet, and was chuckling merrily at a joke Professor Flitwick had just read him.

Flaming Christmas puddings followed the turkey. Trygve nearly broke his teeth on a silver sickle embedded in his slice. Hiccup watched Mulch getting redder and redder in the face as he called for more wine, finally kissing Professor Gothi on the cheek, who, to Hiccup's amazement, giggled and blushed, her top hat lopsided.

When Hiccup finally left the table, he was laden down with a stack of things out of the crackers, including a pack of nonexplodable, luminous balloons, a Grow-Your-Own-Warts kit, and his own new wizard chess set. The white mice had disappeared and Hiccup had a nasty feeling they were going to end up as Mr. Fungus's Christmas dinner.

Hiccup and the Hoffersons spent a happy afternoon having a furious snowball fight on the grounds. Then, cold, wet, and gasping for breath, they returned to the fire in the Gryffindor common room, where Hiccup broke in his new chess set by losing spectacularly to Fishlegs. He suspected he wouldn't have lost so badly if Trygve hadn't tried to help him so much.

After a meal of turkey sandwiches, crumpets, trifle, and Christmas cake, everyone felt too full and sleepy to do much before bed except sit and watch Trygve chase Tuffnut and Ruffnut all over Gryffindor tower because they'd stolen his prefect badge.

It had been Hiccup's best Christmas day ever. Yet something had been nagging at the back of his mind all day. Not until he climbed into bed was he free to think about it: the invisibility cloak and whoever had sent it.

Fishlegs, full of turkey and cake and with nothing mysterious to bother him, fell asleep almost as soon as he'd drawn the curtains of his four-poster. Hiccup leaned over the side of his own bed and pulled the cloak out from under it.

His father's... this had been his father's. He let the material flow over his hands, smoother than silk, light as air. Use it well, the note had said.

He had to try it, now. He slipped out of bed and wrapped the cloak around himself. Looking down at his legs, he saw only moonlight and shadows. It was a very funny feeling.

Use it well.

Suddenly, Hiccup felt wide-awake. The whole of Hogwarts was open to him in this cloak. Excitement flooded through him as he stood there in the dark and silence. He could go anywhere in this, anywhere, and Mulch would never know.

Fishlegs grunted in his sleep. Should Hiccup wake him? Something held him back- his father's cloak - he felt that this time - the first time - he wanted to use it alone.

He crept out of the dormitory, down the stairs, across the common room, and climbed through the portrait hole.

"Who's there?" squawked the Fat Lady. Hiccup said nothing. He walked quickly down the corridor.

Where should he go? He stopped, his heart racing, and thought. And then it came to him. The Restricted Section in the library. He'd be able to read as long as he liked, as long as it took to find out who Flamel was. He set off, drawing the invisibility cloak tight around him as he walked.

The library was pitch-black and very eerie. Hiccup lit a lamp to see his way along the rows of books. The lamp looked as if it was floating along in midair, and even though Hiccup could feel his arm supporting it, the sight gave him the creeps.

The Restricted Section was right at the back of the library. Step ping carefully over the rope that separated these books from the rest of the library, he held up his lamp to read the titles.

They didn't tell him much. Their peeling, faded gold letters spelled words in languages Hiccup couldn't understand. Some had no title at all. One book had a dark stain on it that looked horribly like blood. The hairs on the back of Hiccup's neck prickled. Maybe he was imagining it, maybe not, but he thought a faint whispering was coming from the books, as though they knew someone was there who shouldn't be.

He had to start somewhere. Setting the lamp down carefully on the floor, he looked along the bottom shelf for an interestinglooking book. A large black and silver volume caught his eye. He pulled it out with difficulty, because it was very heavy, and, balancing it on his knee, let it fall open.

A piercing, bloodcurdling shriek split the silence - the book was screaming! Hiccup snapped it shut, but the shriek went on and on, one high, unbroken, earsplitting note. He stumbled backward and knocked over his lamp, which went out at once. Panicking, he heard footsteps coming down the corridor outside - stuffing the shrieking book back on the shelf, he ran for it. He passed Mildew in the doorway; Mildew's pale, wild eyes looked straight through him, and Hiccup slipped under Mildew's outstretched arm and streaked off up the corridor, the book's shrieks still ringing in his ears.

He came to a sudden halt in front of a tall suit of armor. He had been so busy getting away from the library, he hadn't paid attention to where he was going. Perhaps because it was dark, he didn't recognize where he was at all. There was a suit of armor near the kitchens, he knew, but he must be five floors above there.

"You asked me to come directly to you, Professor, if anyone was wandering around at night, and somebody's been in the library Restricted Section."

Hiccup felt the blood drain out of his face. Wherever he was, Mildew must know a shortcut, because his soft, greasy voice was getting nearer, and to his horror, it was Alvin who replied, "The Restricted Section? Well, they can't be far, we'll catch them."

Hiccup stood rooted to the spot as Mildew and Alvin came around the corner ahead. They couldn't see him, of course, but it was a narrow corridor and if they came much nearer they'd knock right into him - the cloak didn't stop him from being solid.

He backed away as quietly as he could. A door stood ajar to his left. It was his only hope. He squeezed through it, holding his breath, trying not to move it, and to his relief he managed to get inside the room without their noticing anything. They walked straight past, and Hiccup leaned against the wall, breathing deeply, listening to their footsteps dying away. That had been close, very close. It was a few seconds before he noticed anything about the room he had hidden in.

It looked like an unused classroom. The dark shapes of desks and chairs were piled against the walls, and there was an upturned wastepaper basket - but propped against the wall facing him was something that didn't look as if it belonged there, something that looked as if someone had just put it there to keep it out of the way.

It was a magnificent mirror, as high as the ceiling, with an ornate gold frame, standing on two clawed feet. There was an inscription carved around the top: Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi. His panic nearer to the mirror, wanting to look at himself but see no reflection again. He stepped in front of it.

He had to clap his hands to his mouth to stop himself from screaming. He whirled around. His heart was pounding far more furiously than when the book had screamed - for he had seen not only himself in the mirror, but a whole crowd of people standing right behind him.

But the room was empty. Breathing very fast, he turned slowly back to the mirror.

There he was, reflected in it, white and scared-looking, and there, reflected behind him, were at least ten others. Hiccup looked over his shoulder - but still, no one was there. Or were they all invisible, too? Was he in fact in a room full of invisible people and this mirror's trick was that it reflected them, invisible or not?

He looked in the mirror again. A woman standing right behind his reflection was smiling at him and waving. He reached out a hand and felt the air behind him. If she was really there, he'd touch her, their reflections were so close together, but he felt only air - she and the others existed only in the mirror.

She was a very pretty woman. She had dark red hair and her eyes - her eyes are just like mine, Hiccup thought, edging a little closer to the glass. Bright green - exactly the same shape, but then he noticed that she was crying; smiling, but crying at the same time. The tall, thin, brown-haired man standing next to her put his arm around her. He wore glasses, and his hair was very untidy. It stuck up at the back, just as Hiccup's did.

Hiccup was so close to the mirror now that his nose was nearly touching that of his reflection.

"Mom?" he whispered. "Dad?"

They just looked at him, smiling. And slowly, Hiccup looked into the faces of the other people in the mirror, and saw other pairs of green eyes like his, other noses like his, even a little old man who looked as though he had Hiccup's knobbly knees - Hiccup was looking at his family, for the first time in his life.

The Haddocks smiled and waved at Hiccup and he stared hungrily back at them, his hands pressed flat against the glass as though he was hoping to fall right through it and reach them. He had a powerful kind of ache inside him, half joy, half terrible sadness.

How long he stood there, he didn't know. The reflections did not fade and he looked and looked until a distant noise brought him back to his senses. He couldn't stay here, he had to find his way back to bed. He tore his eyes away from his mother's face, whispered, "I'll come back," and hurried from the room.

"You could have woken me up," said Fisglegs, crossly.

"You can come tonight, I'm going back, I want to show you the mirror.

"I'd like to see your mom and dad," Fishlegs said eagerly.

"And I want to see all your family, all the Hoffersons, you'll be able to show me your other brothers and everyone."

"You can see them any old time," said Fishlegs. "Just come round my house this summer. Anyway, maybe it only shows dead people. Shame about not finding Flamel, though. Have some bacon or something, why aren't you eating anything?"

Hiccup couldn't eat. He had seen his parents and would be seeing them again tonight. He had almost forgotten about Flamel. It didn't seem very important anymore. Who cared what the three headed dog was guarding? What did it matter if Alvin stole it, really?

"Are you all right?" said Fishlegs. "You look odd."

What Hiccup feared most was that he might not be able to find the mirror room again. With Fishlegs covered in the cloak, too, they had to walk much more slowly the next night. They tried retracing Hiccup's route from the library, wandering around the dark passageways for nearly an hour.

"I'm freezing," said Fishlegs. "Let's forget it and go back."

"No!" Hiccup hissed. I know it's here somewhere."

They passed the ghost of a tall witch gliding in the opposite direction, but saw no one else. just as Fishlegs started moaning that his feet were dead with cold, Hiccup spotted the suit of armor.

"It's here - just here - yes!"

They pushed the door open. Hiccup dropped the cloak from around his shoulders and ran to the mirror.

There they were. His mother and father beamed at the sight of him.

"See?" Hiccup whispered.

"I can't see anything."

"Look! Look at them all... there are loads of them..."

"I can only see you."

"Look in it properly, go on, stand where I am."

Hiccup stepped aside, but with Fishlegs in front of the mirror, he couldn't see his family anymore, just Fishlegs in his paisley pajamas.

Fishlegs, though, was staring transfixed at his image.

"Look at me!" he said.

"Can you see all your family standing around you?"

"No - I'm alone - but I'm different - I look older - and I'm head boy!"

"What?"

"I am - I'm wearing the badge like Olav used to - and I'm holding the house cup and the Quidditch cup - I'm Quidditch captain, too.

Fishlegs tore his eyes away from this splendid sight to look excitedly at Hiccup.

"Do you think this mirror shows the future?"

"How can it? All my family are dead - let me have another look -"

"You had it to yourself all last night, give me a bit more time."

"You're only holding the Quidditch cup, what's interesting about that? I want to see my parents."

"Don't push me -"

A sudden noise outside in the corridor put an end to their discussion. They hadn't realized how loudly they had been talking.

"Quick!"

Fishlegs threw the cloak back over them as the luminous eyes of Mr. Fungus came round the door. Fishlegs and Hiccup stood quite still, both thinking the same thing - did the cloak work on cats? After what seemed an age, she turned and left.

"This isn't safe - he might have gone for Mildew, I bet he heard us. Come on."

And Fishlegs pulled Hiccup out of the room.

The snow still hadn't melted the next morning.

"Want to play chess, Hiccup?" said Fishlegs.

"No."

"Why don't we go down and visit Mulch?"

"No... you go..."

"I know what you're thinking about, Hiccup, that mirror. Don't go back tonight."

"Why not?"

"I dunno, I've just got a bad feeling about it - and anyway, you've had too many close shaves already. Mildew, Alvin, and Mr. Fungus are wandering around. So what if they can't see you? What if they walk into you? What if you knock something over?"

"You sound like Camicazi."

"I'm serious, Hiccup, don't go."

But Hiccup only had one thought in his head, which was to get back in front of the mirror, and Fishlegs wasn't going to stop him.

That third night he found his way more quickly than before. He was walking so fast he knew he was making more noise than was wise, but he didn't meet anyone.

And there were his mother and father smiling at him again, and one of his grandfathers nodding happily. Hiccup sank down to sit on the floor in front of the mirror. There was nothing to stop him from staying here all night with his family. Nothing at all.

Except -

"So - back again, Hiccup?"

Hiccup felt as though his insides had turned to ice. He looked behind him. Sitting on one of the desks by the wall was none other than Odin Thor. Hiccup must have walked straight past him, so desperate to get to the mirror he hadn't noticed him.

" - I didn't see you, sir."

"Strange how nearsighted being invisible can make you," said Thor, and Hiccup was relieved to see that he was smiling.

"So," said Thor, slipping off the desk to sit on the floor with Hiccup, "you, like hundreds before you, have discovered the delights of the Mirror of Erised."

"I didn't know it was called that, Sir."

"But I expect you've realized by now what it does?"

"It - well - it shows me my family -"

"And it showed your friend Fishlegs himself as head boy."

"How did you know -?"

"I don't need a cloak to become invisible," said Thor gently. "Now, can you think what the Mirror of Erised shows us all?"

Hiccup shook his head.

"Let me explain. The happiest man on earth would be able to use the Mirror of Erised like a normal mirror, that is, he would look into it and see himself exactly as he is. Does that help?"

Hiccup thought. Then he said slowly, "It shows us what we want...whatever we want..."

"Yes and no," said Thor quietly. "It shows us nothing more or less than the deepest, most desperate desire of our hearts. You, who have never known your family, see them standing around you. Fishlegs Hofferson, who has always been overshadowed by his siblings, sees himself standing alone, the best of all of them. However, this mirror will give us neither knowledge or truth. Men have wasted away before it, entranced by what they have seen, or been driven mad, not knowing if what it shows is real or even possible.

"The Mirror will be moved to a new home tomorrow, Hiccup, and I ask you not to go looking for it again. If you ever do run across it, you will now be prepared. It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live, remember that. Now, why don't you put that admirable cloak back on and get off to bed?"

Hiccup stood up.

"Sir - Professor Thor? Can I ask you something?"

"Obviously, you've just done so," Thor smiled. "You may ask me one more thing, however."

"What do you see when you look in the mirror?"

"I? I see myself holding a pair of thick, woolen socks."

Hiccup stared.

"One can never have enough socks," said Thor. "Another Christmas has come and gone and I didn't get a single pair. People will insist on giving me books."

It was only when he was back in bed that it struck Hiccup that Thor might not have been quite truthful. But then, he thought, as he shoved Meatlug off his pillow, it had been quite a personal question.

**I made Valka a red head like Lily**


	16. Nicolas Flamel

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Nicolas Flamel

Thor had convinced Hiccup not to go looking for the Mirror of Erised again, and for the rest of the Christmas holidays the invisibility cloak stayed folded at the bottom of his trunk. Hiccup wished he could forget what he'd seen in the mirror as easily, but he couldn't. He started having nightmares. Over and over again he dreamed about his parents disappearing in a flash of green light, while a high voice cackled with laughter.

"You see, Thor was right, that mirror could drive you mad," said Fishlegs, when Hiccup told him about these drearns.

Camicazi, who came back the day before term started, took a different view of things. She was torn between horror at the idea of Hiccup being out of bed, roaming the school three nights in a row ("If Mildew had caught you!"), and disappointment that he hadn't at least found out who Nicolas Flamel was.

They had almost given up hope of ever finding Flamel in a li- brary book, even though Hiccup was still sure he'd read the name somewhere. Once term had started, they were back to skimming through books for ten minutes during their breaks. Hiccup had even less time than the other two, because Quidditch practice had started again.

Dornet was working the team harder than ever. Even the endless rain that had replaced the snow couldn't dampen his spirits. The Hoffersons complained that Dornet was becoming a fanatic, but Hiccup was on Dornet's side. If they won their next match, against Hufflepuff, they would overtake Slytherin in the house championship for the first time in seven years. Quite apart from wanting to win, Hiccup found that he had fewer nightmares when he was tired out after training.

Then, during one particularly wet and muddy practice session, Dornet gave the team a bit of bad news. He'd just gotten very angry with the Hoffersons, who kept dive-bombing each other and pretending to fall off their brooms.

"Will you stop messing around!" he yelled. "That's exactly the sort of thing that'll lose us the match! Alvin's refereeing this time, and he'll be looking for any excuse to knock points off Gryffindor!"

Ruffnut Hofferson really did fall off his broom at these words.

"Alvin's refereeing?" he spluttered through a mouthful of mud. "When's he ever refereed a Quidditch match? He's not going to be fair if we might overtake Slytherin."

The rest of the team landed next to Ruffnut to complain, too.

"It's not my fault," said Dornet. "We've just got to make sure we play a clean game, so Alvin hasn't got an excuse to pick on us."

Which was all very well, thought Hiccup, but he had another reason for not wanting Snape near him while he was playing Quidditch...

The rest of the team hung back to talk to one another as usual at the end of practice, but Hiccup headed straight back to the Gryffindor common room, where he found Fishlegs and Camicazi playing chess. Chess was the only thing Camicazi ever lost at, something Hiccup and Fishlegs thought was very good for her.

"Don't talk to me for a moment," said Fishlegs when Hiccup sat down next to him, "I need to concen -" He caught sight of Hiccup's face. "What's the matter with you? You look terrible."

Speaking quietly so that no one else would hear, Hiccup told the other two about Alvin's sudden, sinister desire to be a Quidditch referee.

"Don't play," said Camicazi at once.

"Say you're ill," said Fishlegs.

"Pretend to break your leg," Camicazi suggested.

"Really break your leg," said Fishlegs.

"I can't," said Hiccup. "There isn't a reserve Seeker. If I back out, Gryffindor can't play at all."

At that moment Drake toppled into the common room. How he had managed to climb through the portrait hole was anyone's guess, because his legs had been stuck together with what they recognized at once as the Leg-Locker Curse. He must have had to bunny hop all the way up to Gryffindor tower.

Everyone fell over laughing except Camicazi, who leapt up and performed the countercurse. Drake's legs sprang apart and he got to his feet, trembling.

"What happened?" Camicazi asked him, leading him over to sit with Hiccup and Fishlegs.

"Malfoy," said Drake shakily. "I met him outside the library. He said he'd been looking for someone to practice that on."

"Go to Professor Gothi!" Camicazi urged Drake. "Report him!"

Drake shook his head.

"I don't want more trouble," he mumbled.

"You've got to stand up to him, Drake!" said Fishlegs. "He's used to walking all over people, but that's no reason to lie down in front of him and make it easier."

"There's no need to tell me I'm not brave enough to be in Gryffindor, Malfoy's already done that," Drake choked out.

Hiccup felt in the pocket of his robes and pulled out a Chocolate Frog, the very last one from the box Camicazi had given him for Christmas. He gave it to Drake, who looked as though he might cry.

"You're worth twelve of Malfoy," Hiccup said. "The Sorting Hat chose you for Gryffindor, didn't it? And where's Malfoy? In stinking Slytherin."

Drake's lips twitched in a weak smile as he unwrapped the frog.

"Thanks, Hiccup... I think I'll go to bed... D'you want the card, you collect them, don't you?"

As Drake walked away, Hiccup looked at the Famous Wizard card.

"Thor again," he said, "He was the first one I ever-"

He gasped. He stared at the back of the card. Then he looked up at Fishlegs and Camicazi.

"I've found him!" he whispered. "I've found Flamel! I told you I'd read the name somewhere before, I read it on the train coming here - listen to this: 'Thor is particularly famous for his defeat of the dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood, and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel'!"

Camicazi jumped to her feet. She hadn't looked so excited since they'd gotten back the marks for their very first piece of homework.

"Stay there!" she said, and she sprinted up the stairs to the girls' dormitories. Hiccup and Fishlegs barely had time to exchange mystified looks before she was dashing back, an enormous old book in her arms.

"I never thought to look in here!" she whispered excitedly. "I got this out of the library weeks ago for a bit of light reading."

"Light?" said Fishlegs, but Camicazi told him to be quiet until she'd looked something up, and started flicking frantically through the pages, muttering to herself.

At last she found what she was looking for.

"I knew it! I knew it!"

"Are we allowed to speak yet?" said Fishlegs grumpily. Camicazi ignored him.

"Nicolas Flamel," she whispered dramatically, "is the only known maker of the Sorcerer's Stone!"

This didn't have quite the effect she'd expected.

"The what?" said Hiccup and Fishlegs.

"Oh, honestly, don't you two read? Look - read that, there."

She pushed the book toward them, and Hiccup and Fishlegs read:

The ancient study of alchemy is concerned with making the Sorcerer's Stone, a legendary substance with astonishing powers. The stone will transform any metal into pure gold. It also produces the Elixir of Life, which will make the drinker immortal. There have been many reports of the Sorcerer's Stone over the centuries, but the only Stone currently in existence belongs to Mr. Nicolas Flamel, the noted alchemist and opera lover. Mr. Flamel, who celebrated his six hundred and sixty-fifth birthday last year, enjoys a quiet life in Devon with his wife, Perenelle (six hundred and fifty-eight).

"See?" said Camicazi, when Hiccup and Fishlegs had finished. "The dog must be guarding Flamel's Sorcerer's Stone! I bet he asked Thor to keep it safe for him, because they're friends and he knew someone was after it, that's why he wanted the Stone moved out of Gringotts!"

"A stone that makes gold and stops you from ever dying!" said Hiccup. "No wonder Alvin's after it! Anyone would want it."

"And no wonder we couldn't find Flamel in that Study of Recent Developments in Wizardry," said Fishlegs. "He's not exactly recent if he's six hundred and sixty-five, is he?"

The next morning in Defense Against the Dark Arts, while copying down different ways of treating werewolf bites, Camicazi and Fishlegs were still discussing what they'd do with a Sorcerer's Stone if they had one. It wasn't until Fishlegs said he'd buy his own Quidditch team that Hiccup remembered about Alvin and the coming match.

"I'm going to play," he told Fishlegs and Camicazi. "If I don't, all the Slytherins will think I'm just too scared to face Alvin. I'll show them... it'll really wipe the smiles off their faces if we win."

"Just as long as we're not wiping you off the field," said Camicazi.

As the match drew nearer, however, Hiccup became more and more nervous, whatever he told Fishlegs and Camicazi. The rest of the team wasn't too calm, either. The idea of overtaking Slytherin in the house championship was wonderful, no one had done it for seven years, but would they be allowed to, with such a biased referee?

Hiccup didn't know whether he was imagining it or not, but he seemed to keep running into Alvin wherever he went. At times, he even wondered whether Alvin was following him, trying to catch him on his own. Potions lessons were turning into a sort of weekly torture, Alvin was so horrible to Hiccup. Could Alvin possibly know they'd found out about the Sorcerer's Stone? Hiccup didn't see how he could - yet he sometimes had the horrible feeling that Alvin could read minds.

Hiccup knew, when they wished him good luck outside the locker rooms the next afternoon, that Fishlegs and Camicazi were wondering whether they'd ever see him alive again. This wasn't what you'd call comforting. Hiccup hardly heard a word of Dornet's pep talk as he pulled on his Quidditch robes and picked up his Nimbus Two Thousand.

Fishlegs and Camicazi, meanwhile, had found a place in the stands next to Drake, who couldn't understand why they looked so grim and worried, or why they had both brought their wands to the match. Little did Hiccup know that Fishlegs and Camicazi had been secretly practicing the Leg-Locker Curse. They'd gotten the idea from Malfoy using it on Drake, and were ready to use it on Alvin if he showed any sign of wanting to hurt Hiccup.

"Now, don't forget, it's Locomotor Mortis," Camicazi muttered as Fishlegs slipped his wand up his sleeve.

"I know," Fishlegs snapped. "Don't nag."

Back in the locker room, Dornet had taken Hiccup aside.

"Don't want to pressure you, Haddock, but if we ever need an early capture of the Snitch it's now. Finish the game before Alvin can favor Hufflepuff too much."

"The whole school's out there!" said Tuffnut Hofferson, peering out of the door. "Even - blimey - Thor's come to watch!"

Hiccup's heart did a somersault.

"Thor?" he said, dashing to the door to make sure. Tuffnut was right. There was no mistaking that silver beard.

Hiccup could have laughed out loud with relief He was safe. There was simply no way that Alvin would dare to try to hurt him if Thor was watching.

Perhaps that was why Alvin was looking so angry as the teams marched onto the field, something that Fishlegs noticed, too.

"I've never seen Alvin look so mean," he told Camicazi. "Look -they're off Ouch!"

Someone had poked Fishlegs in the back of the head. It was Malfoy.

"Oh, sorry, Hofferson, didn't see you there."

Malfoy grinned broadly at Ivar and Gisle.

"Wonder how long Haddock's going to stay on his broom this time? Anyone want a bet? What about you, Hofferson?"

Fishlegs didn't answer; Alvin had just awarded Hufflepuff a penalty because Ruffnut Hofferson had hit a Bludger at him. Camicazi, who had all her fingers crossed in her lap, was squinting fixedly at Hiccup, who was circling the game like a hawk, looking for the Snitch.

"You know how I think they choose people for the Gryffindor team?" said Malfoy loudly a few minutes later, as Alvin awarded Hufflepuff another penalty for no reason at all. "It's people they feel sorry for. See, there's Haddock, who's got no parents, then there's the Hoffersons, who've got no money - you should be on the team, Longbottom, you've got no brains."

Drake went bright red but turned in his seat to face Malfoy.

"I'm worth twelve of you, Malfoy," he stammered.

Malfoy, Ivar, and Gisle howled with laughter, but Fishlegs, still not daring to take his eyes from the game, said, "You tell him, Drake."

"Longbottom, if brains were gold you'd be poorer than Hofferson, and that's saying something."

Fishlegs's nerves were already stretched to the breaking point with anxiety about Hiccup.

"I'm warning you, Malfoy - one more word

"Fishlegs!" said Camicazi suddenly, "Hiccup -"

"What? Where?"

Hiccup had suddenly gone into a spectacular dive, which drew gasps and cheers from the crowd. Camicazi stood up, her crossed fingers in her mouth, as Hiccup streaked toward the ground like a bullet.

"You're in luck, Hofferson, Haddock's obviously spotted some money on the ground!" said Malfoy.

Fishlegs snapped. Before Malfoy knew what was happening, Fishlegs was on top of him, wrestling him to the ground. Drake hesitated, then clambered over the back of his seat to help.

"Come on, Harry!" Camicazi screamed, leaping onto her seat to watch as Hiccup sped straight at Alvin - she didn't even notice Malfoy and Fishlegs rolling around under her seat, or the scuffles and yelps coming from the whirl of fists that was Drake, Ivar, and Gisle.

Up in the air, Alvin turned on his broomstick just in time to see something scarlet shoot past him, missing him by inches - the next second, Hiccup had pulled out of the dive, his arm raised in triumph, the Snitch clasped in his hand.

The stands erupted; it had to be a record, no one could ever remember the Snitch being caught so quickly.

"Fishlegs! Fishlegs! Where are you? The game's over! Hiccup's won! We've won! Gryffindor is in the lead!" shrieked Camicazi, dancing up and down on her seat and hugging Parvati Patil in the row in front.

Hiccup jumped off his broom, a foot from the ground. He couldn't believe it. He'd done it - the game was over; it had barely lasted five minutes. As Gryffindors came spilling onto the field, he saw Alvin land nearby, white-faced and tight-lipped - then Hiccup felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up into Thor's smiling face.

"Well done," said Thor quietly, so that only Hiccup could hear. "Nice to see you haven't been brooding about that mirror... been keeping busy... excellent..."

Alvin spat bitterly on the ground.

Hiccup left the locker room alone some time later, to take his Nimbus Two Thousand back to the broomshed. He couldn't ever remember feeling happier. He'd really done something to be proud of now - no one could say he was just a famous name any more. The evening air had never smelled so sweet. He walked over the damp grass, reliving the last hour in his head, which was a happy blur: Gryffindors running to lift him onto their shoulders; Fishlegs and Camicazi in the distance, jumping up and down, Fishlegs cheering through a heavy nosebleed.

Hiccup had reached the shed. He leaned against the wooden door and looked up at Hogwarts, with its windows glowing red in the setting sun. Gryffindor in the lead. He'd done it, he'd shown Alvin...

And speaking of Alvin...

A hooded figure came swiftly down the front steps of the castle. Clearly not wanting to be seen, it walked as fast as possible toward the forbidden forest. Hiccup's victory faded from his mind as he watched. He recognized the figure's prowling walk. Alvin, sneaking into the forest while everyone else was at dinner - what was going on?

Hiccup jumped back on his Nimbus Two Thousand and took off. Gliding silently over the castle he saw Alvin enter the forest at a run. He followed.

The trees were so thick he couldn't see where Alvin had gone. He flew in circles, lower and lower, brushing the top branches of trees until he heard voices. He glided toward them and landed noiselessly in a towering beech tree.

He climbed carefully along one of the branches, holding tight to his broomstick, trying to see through the leaves.

Below, in a shadowy clearing, stood Snape, but he wasn't alone. Quirrell was there, too. Hiccup couldn't make out the look on his face, but he was stuttering worse than ever. Hiccup strained to catch what they were saying.

"... d-don't know why you wanted t-t-to meet here of all p-places, Severus..."

"Oh, I thought we'd keep this private," said Alvin, his voice icy. "Students aren't supposed to know about the Sorcerer's Stone, after all."

Hiccup leaned forward. Quirrell was mumbling something. Alvin interrupted him.

"Have you found out how to get past that beast of Mulch's yet?"

"B-b-but Severus, I -"

"You don't want me as your enemy, Quirrell," said Alvin, taking a step toward him.

"I-I don't know what you

"You know perfectly well what I mean."

An owl hooted loudly, and Hiccup nearly fell out of the tree. He steadied himself in time to hear Alvin say, "- your little bit of hocus-pocus. I'm waiting."

"B-but I d-d-don't -"

"Very well," Alvin cut in. "We'll have another little chat soon, when you've had time to think things over and decided where your loyalties lie."

He threw his cloak over his head and strode out of the clearing. It was almost dark now, but Hiccup could see Quirrell, standing quite still as though he was petrified.

"Hiccup, where have you been?" Camicazi squeaked.

"We won! You won! We won!" shouted Fishlegs, thumping Hiccup on the back. "And I gave Malfoy a black eye, and Drake tried to take on Ivar and Gisle single-handed! He's still out cold but Madam Pomftey says he'll be all right - talk about showing Slytherin! Everyone's waiting for you in the common room, we're having a party, Tuffnut and Ruffnut stole some cakes and stuff from the kitchens."

"Never mind that now," said Hiccup breathlessly. "Let's find an empty room, you wait 'til you hear this..."

He made sure Peeves wasn't inside before shutting the door behind them, then he told them what he'd seen and heard.

"So we were right, it is the Sorcerer's Stone, and Alvin's trying to force Quirrell to help him get it. He asked if he knew how to get past Fluffy - and he said something about Quirrell's 'hocus pocuss- I reckon there are other things guarding the stone apart from Fluffy, loads of enchantments, probably, and Quirrell would have done some anti-Dark Arts spell that Alvin needs to break through -"

"So you mean the Stone's only safe as long as Quirrell stands up to Alvin?" said Camicazi in alarm.

"It'll be gone by next Tuesday," said Fishlegs.


	17. Norbert The Norwegian Ridgeback

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Norbert The Norwegian Ridgeback

Quirrell, however, must have been braver than they'd thought. In the weeks that followed he did seem to be getting paler and thinner, but it didn't look as though he'd cracked yet.

Every time they passed the third-floor corridor, Hiccup, Fishlegs, and Camicazi would press their ears to the door to check that Fluffy was still growling inside. Alvin was sweeping about in his usual bad temper, which surely meant that the Stone was still safe. Whenever Hiccup passed Quirrell these days he gave him an encouraging sort of smile, and Fishlegs had started telling people off for laughing at Quirrell's stutter.

Camicazi, however, had more on her mind than the Sorcerer's Stone. She had started drawing up study schedules and colorcoding all her notes. Hiccup and Fishlegs wouldn't have minded, but she kept nagging them to do the same.

"Camicazi, the exams are ages away."

"Ten weeks," Camicazi snapped. "That's not ages, that's like a second to Nicolas Flamel."

"But we're not six hundred years old," Fishlegs reminded her. "Anyway, what are you studying for, you already know it A."

"What am I studying for? Are you crazy? You realize we need to pass these exams to get into the second year? They're very important, I should have started studying a month ago, I don't know what's gotten into me..."

Unfortunately, the teachers seemed to be thinking along the same lines as Camicazi. They piled so much homework on them that the Easter holidays weren't nearly as much fun as the Christmas ones. It was hard to relax with Camicazi next to you reciting the twelve uses of dragon's blood or practicing wand movements. Moaning and yawning, Hiccup and Fishlegs spent most of their free time in the library with her, trying to get through all their extra work.

"I'll never remember this," Fishlegs burst out one afternoon, throwing down his quill and looking longingly out of the library window. It was the first really fine day they'd had in months. The sky was a clear, forget-me-not blue, and there was a feeling in the air of summer coming.

Hiccup, who was looking up "Dittany" in One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi, didn't look up until he heard Ron say, "Mulch! What are you doing in the library?"

Mulch shuffled into view, hiding something behind his back. He looked very out of place in his moleskin overcoat.

"Jus' lookin'," he said, in a shifty voice that got their interest at once. "An' what're you lot up ter?" He looked suddenly suspicious. "Yer not still lookin' fer Nicolas Flamel, are yeh?"

"Oh, we found out who he is ages ago," said Fishlegs impressively. "And we know what that dog's guarding, it's a Sorcerer's St -"

"Shhhh!" Mulch looked around quickly to see if anyone was listening. "Don' go shoutin' about it, what's the matter with yeh?"

"There are a few things we wanted to ask you, as a matter of fact," said Hiccup, "about what's guarding the Stone apart from Fluffy -"

"SHHHH!" said Mulch again. "Listen - come an' see me later, I'm not promisin' I'll tell yeh anythin', mind, but don' go rabbitin' about it in here, students aren' s'pposed ter know. They'll think I've told yeh-"

"See you later, then," said Hiccup.

Mulch shuffled off.

"What was he hiding behind his back?" said Camicazi thoughtfully.

"Do you think it had anything to do with the Stone?"

"I'm going to see what section he was in," said Fishlegs, who'd had enough of working. He came back a minute later with a pile of books in his arms and slammed them down on the table.

"Dragons!" he whispered. "Mulch was looking up stuff about dragons! Look at these: Dragon Species of Great Britain and Ireland; From Egg to Inferno, A Dragon Keeper's Guide."

"Mulch's always wanted a dragon, he told me so the first time I ever met him, " said Hiccup.

"But it's against our laws," said Fishlegs. "Dragon breeding was outlawed by the Warlocks' Convention of 1709, everyone knows that. It's hard to stop Muggles from noticing us if we're keeping dragons in the back garden -anyway, you can't tame dragons, it's dangerous. You should see the burns Magnus's got off wild ones in Romania."

"But there aren't wild dragons in Britain?" said Hiccup.

"Of course there are," said Fishlegs. "Common Welsh Green and Hebridean Blacks. The Ministry of Magic has a job hushing them up, I can tell you. Our kind have to keep putting spells on Muggles who've spotted them, to make them forget."

"So what on earths Hagrid up to?" said Camicazi.

When they knocked on the door of the gamekeeper's hut an hour later, they were surprised to see that all the curtains were closed. Mulch called "Who is it?" before he let them in, and then shut the door quickly behind them.

It was stifling hot inside. Even though it was such a warm day, there was a blazing fire in the grate. Mulch made them tea and offered them stoat sandwiches, which they refused.

"So - yeh wanted to ask me somethin'?"

"Yes," said Hiccup. There was no point beating around the bush. "We were wondering if you could tell us what's guarding the Sorcerer's Stone apart from Fluffy."

Mulch frowned at him.

"0' course I cant, he said. "Number one, I don' know meself. Number two, yeh know too much already, so I wouldn' tell yeh if I could. That Stone's here fer a good reason. It Was almost stolen outta Gringotts - I s'ppose yeh've worked that out an' all? Beats me how yeh even know abou' Fluffy."

"Oh, come on, Mulch, you might not want to tell us, but you do know, you know everything that goes on round here," said Camicazi in a warm, flattering voice. Mulch's beard twitched and they could tell he was smiling. "We only wondered who had done the guarding, really." Camicazi went on. "We wondered who Dumbledore had trusted enough to help him, apart from you."

Mulch's chest swelled at these last words. Hiccup and Fishlegs beamed at Camicazi.

"Well, I don' s'pose it could hurt ter tell yeh that... let's see... he borrowed Fluffy from me... then some o' the teachers did enchantments...Professor Sprout - Professor Flitwick - Professor Gothi -" he ticked them off on his fingers, "Professor Quirrell - an' Thor himself did somethin', o' course. Hang on, I've forgotten someone. Oh yeah, Professor Alvin."

"Alvin?"

"Yeah - yer not still on abou' that, are yeh? Look, Alvin helped protect the Stone, he's not about ter steal it."

Hiccup knew Fishlegs and Camicazi were thinking the same as he was. If Alvin had been in on protecting the Stone, it must have been easy to find out how the other teachers had guarded it. He probably knew everything -except, it seemed, Quirrell's spell and how to get past Fluffy.

"You're the only one who knows how to get past Fluffy. aren't you, Mulch?" said Hiccup anxiously. "And you wouldn't tell anyone, would you? Not even one of the teachers?"

"Not a soul knows except me an' Thor," said Mulch proudly.

"Well, that's something," Hiccup muttered to the others. "Mulch, can we have a window open? I'm boiling."

"Can't, Hiccup, sorry," said Mulch. Hiccup noticed him glance at the fire. Hiccup looked at it, too.

"Mulch - what's that?"

But he already knew what it was. In the very heart of the fire, underneath the kettle, was a huge, black egg.

"Ah," said Mulch, fiddling nervously with his beard, "That's er..."

"Where did you get it, Mulch?" said Fishlegs, crouching over the fire to get a closer look at the egg. "It must've cost you a fortune."

"Won it," said Mulch. "Las' night. I was down in the village havin' a few drinks an' got into a game o' cards with a stranger. Think he was quite glad ter get rid of it, ter be honest."

"But what are you going to do with it when it's hatched?" said Camicazi.

"Well, I've bin doin' some readin' , said Mulch, pulling a large book from under his pillow. "Got this outta the library - Dragon Breeding for Pleasure and Profit - it's a bit outta date, o' course, but it's all in here. Keep the egg in the fire, 'cause their mothers breathe on I em, see, an' when it hatches, feed it on a bucket o' brandy mixed with chicken blood every half hour. An' see here - how ter recognize diff'rent eggs - what I got there's a Norwegian Ridgeback. They're rare, them."

He looked very pleased with himself, but Camicazi didn't.

"Mulch, you live in a wooden house," she said.

But Mulch wasn't listening. He was humming merrily as he stoked the fire.

So now they had something else to worry about: what might happen to Mulch if anyone found out he was hiding an illegal dragon in his hut.

"Wonder what it's like to have a peaceful life," Fishlegs sighed, as evening after evening they struggled through all the extra homework they were getting. Camicazi had now started making study schedules for Hiccup and Fishlegs, too. It was driving them nuts.

Then, one breakfast time, Toothless brought Hiccup another note from Mulch. He had written only two words: It's hatching.

Fishlegs wanted to skip Herbology and go straight down to the hut. Camicazi wouldn't hear of it.

"Camicazi, how many times in our lives are we going to see a dragon hatching?"

"We've got lessons, we'll get into trouble, and that's nothing to what Mulch's going to be in when someone finds out what he's doing -"

"Shut up!" Hiccup whispered.

Malfoy was only a few feet away and he had stopped dead to listen. How much had he heard? Hiccup didn't like the look on Malfoy's face at all.

Fishlegs and Camicazi argued all the way to Herbology and in the end, Camicazi agreed to run down to Mulch's with the other two during morning break. When the bell sounded from the castle at the end of their lesson, the three of them dropped their trowels at once and hurried through the grounds to the edge of the forest. Mulch greeted them, looking flushed and excited.

"It's nearly out." He ushered them inside.

The egg was lying on the table. There were deep cracks in it. Something was moving inside; a funny clicking noise was coming from it.

They all drew their chairs up to the table and watched with bated breath.

All at once there was a scraping noise and the egg split open. The baby dragon flopped onto the table. It wasn't exactly pretty; Hiccup thought it looked like a crumpled, black umbrella. Its spiny wings were huge compared to its skinny jet body, it had a long snout with wide nostrils, the stubs of horns and bulging, orange eyes.

It sneezed. A couple of sparks flew out of its snout.

"Isn't he beautiful?" Mulch murmured. He reached out a hand to stroke the dragon's head. It snapped at his fingers, showing pointed fangs.

"Bless him, look, he knows his mommy!" said Mulch.

"Mulch," said Camicazi, "how fast do Norwegian Ridgebacks grow, exactly?"

Mulch was about to answer when the color suddenly drained from his face- he leapt to his feet and ran to the window.

"What's the matter?"

"Someone was lookin' through the gap in the curtains - it's a kid - he's runnin' back up ter the school."

Hiccup bolted to the door and looked out. Even at a distance there was no mistaking him.

Malfoy had seen the dragon.

Something about the smile lurking on Malfoy's face during the next week made Hiccup, Fishlegs, and Camicazi very nervous. They spent most of their free time in Mulch's darkened hut, trying to reason with him.

"Just let him go," Hiccup urged. "Set him free."

"I can't," said Mulch. "He's too little. He'd die."

They looked at the dragon. It had grown three times in length in just a week. Smoke kept furling out of its nostrils. Mulch hadn't been doing his gamekeeping duties because the dragon was keeping him so busy. There were empty brandy bottles and chicken feathers all over the floor.

"I've decided to call him Norbert," said Mulch, looking at the dragon with misty eyes. "He really knows me now, watch. Norbert! Norbert! Where's Mommy?"

"He's lost his marbles," Fishlegs muttered in Hiccup's ear.

"Mulch," said Hiccup loudly, "give it two weeks and Norbert's going to be as long as your house. Malfoy could go to Thor at any moment."

Mulch bit his lip.

"I - I know I can't keep him forever, but I can't jus' dump him, I can't."

Hiccup suddenly turned to Fishlegs.

"Magnus", he said.

"You're losing it, too," said Fishlegs. "I'm Fishlegs, remember?"

"No - Magnus - your brother, Magnus. In Romania. Studying dragons. We could send Norbert to him. Magnus can take care of him and then put him back in the wild!"

"Brilliant!" said Fishlegs. "How about it, Mulch?"

And in the end, Mulch agreed that they could send -an owl to Magnus to ask him.

The following week dragged by. Wednesday night found Camicazi and Hiccup sitting alone in the common room, long after everyone else had gone to bed. The clock on the wall had just chimed midnight when the portrait hole burst open. Fishlegs appeared out of nowhere as he pulled off Hiccup's invisibility cloak. He had been down at Mulch's hut, helping him feed Norbert, who was now eating dead rats by the crate.

"It bit me!" he said, showing them his hand, which was wrapped in a bloody handkerchief. "I'm not going to be able to hold a quill for a week. I tell you, that dragon's the most horrible animal I've ever met, but the way Mulch goes on about it, you'd think it was a fluffy little bunny rabbit. When it bit me he told me off for frightening it. And when I left, he was singing it a lullaby."

There was a tap on the dark window.

"It's Toothless!" said Hiccup, hurrying to let her in. "She'll have Magnus's answer!"

The three of them put their heads together to read the note.

Dear Fishlegs,

How are you? Thanks for the letter - I'd be glad to take the Norwegian Ridgeback, but it won't be easy getting him here. I think the best thing will be to send him over with some friends of mine who are coming to visit me next week. Trouble is, they mustn't be seen carrying an illegal dragon.

Could you get the Ridgeback up the tallest tower at midnight on Saturday? They can meet you there and take him away while it's still dark.

Send me an answer as soon as possible.

Love,

Magnus

They looked at one another.

"We've got the invisibility cloak," said Hiccup. "It shouldn't be too difficult - I think the cloaks big enough to cover two of us and Norbert."

It was a mark of how bad the last week had been that the other two agreed with him. Anything to get rid of Norbert - and Malfoy.

There was a hitch. By the next morning, Fishlegs's bitten hand had swollen to twice its usual size. He didn't know whether it was safe to go to Madam Pomfrey - would she recognize a dragon bite? By the afternoon, though, he had no choice. The cut had turned a nasty shade of green. It looked as if Norbert's fangs were poisonous.

Hiccup and Camicazi rushed up to the hospital wing at the end of the day to find Fishlegs in a terrible state in bed.

"It's not just my hand," he whispered, "although that feels like it's about to fall off. Malfoy told Madam Pomfrey he wanted to borrow one of my books so he could come and have a good laugh at me. He kept threatening to tell her what really bit me - I've told her it was a dog, but I don't think she believes me -I shouldn't have hit him at the Quidditch match, that's why he's doing this."

Hiccup and Camicazi tried to calm Fishlegs down.

"It'll all be over at midnight on Saturday," said Camicazi, but this didn't soothe Fishlegs at all. On the contrary, he sat bolt upright and broke into a sweat.

"Midnight on Saturday!" he said in a hoarse voice. "Oh no oh no - I've just remembered - Magnus's letter was in that book Malfoy took, he's going to know we're getting rid of Norbert."

Hiccup and Camicazi didn't get a chance to answer. Madam Pomfrey came over at that moment and made them leave, saying Fishlegs needed sleep.

"It's too late to change the plan now," Hiccup told Camicazi. "We haven't got time to send Magnus another owl, and this could be our only chance to get rid of Norbert. We'll have to risk it. And we have got the invisibility cloak, Malfoy doesn't know about that."

They found Fang, the boarhound, sitting outside with a bandaged tail when they went to tell Mulch, who opened a window to talk to them.

"I won't let you in," he puffed. "Norbert's at a tricky stage - nothin' I can't handle."

When they told him about Magus's letter, his eyes filled with tears, although that might have been because Norbert had just bitten him on the leg.

"Aargh! It's all right, he only got my boot - jus' playin' - he's only a baby, after all."

The baby banged its tail on the wall, making the windows rattle. Hiccup and Camicazi walked back to the castle feeling Saturday couldn't come quickly enough.

They would have felt sorry for Hagrid when the time came for him to say good-bye to Norbert if they hadn't been so worried about what they had to do. It was a very dark, cloudy night, and they were a bit late arriving at Mulch's hut because they'd had to wait for Peeves to get out of their way in the entrance hall, where he'd been playing tennis against the wall.

Mulch had Norbert packed and ready in a large crate.

"He's got lots o' rats an' some brandy fer the journey," said Mulch in a muffled voice. "An' I've packed his teddy bear in case he gets lonely."

From inside the crate came ripping noises that sounded to Hiccup as though the teddy was having his head torn off.

"Bye-bye, Norbert!" Mulch sobbed, as Hiccup and Camicazi covered the crate with the invisibility cloak and stepped underneath it themselves. "Mommy will never forget you!"

How they managed to get the crate back up to the castle, they never knew. Midnight ticked nearer as they heaved Norbert up the marble staircase in the entrance hall and along the dark corridors. UP another staircase, then another - even one of Hiccup's shortcuts didn't make the work much easier.

"Nearly there!" Hiccup panted as they reached the corridor beneath the tallest tower.

Then a sudden movement ahead of them made them almost drop the crate. Forgetting that they were already invisible, they shrank into the shadows, staring at the dark outlines of two people grappling with each other ten feet away. A lamp flared.

Professor Gothi, in a tartan bathrobe and a hair net, had Malfoy by the ear.

"Detention!" she shouted. "And twenty points from Slytherin! Wandering around in the middle of the night, how dare you -"

"You don't understand, Professor. Hiccup Haddock's coming - he's got a dragon!"

"What utter rubbish! How dare you tell such lies! Come on - I shall see Professor Alvin about you, Malfoy!"

The steep spiral staircase up to the top of the tower seemed the easiest thing in the world after that. Not until they'd stepped out into the cold night air did they throw off the cloak, glad to be able to breathe properly again. Camicazi did a sort of jig.

"Malfoy's got detention! I could sing!"

"Don't," Hiccup advised her.

Chuckling about Malfoy, they waited, Norbert thrashing about in his crate. About ten minutes later, four broomsticks came swooping down out of the darkness.

Magnus's friends were a cheery lot. They showed Hiccup and Camicazi the harness they'd rigged up, so they could suspend Norbert between them. They all helped buckle Norbert safely into it and then Hiccup and Camicazi shook hands with the others and thanked them very much.

At last, Norbert was going... going... gone.

They slipped back down the spiral staircase, their hearts as light as their hands, now that Norbert was off them. No more dragon - Malfoy in detention - what could spoil their happiness?

The answer to that was waiting at the foot of the stairs. As they stepped into the corridor, Mildew's face loomed suddenly out of the darkness.

"Well, well, well," he whispered, "we are in trouble."

They'd left the invisibility cloak on top of the tower.


	18. The Forbidden Forest

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

The Forbidden Forest

Things couldn't have been worse.

Mildew took them down to Professor Gothi's study on the first floor, where they sat and waited without saying a word to each other. Camicazi was trembling. Excuses, alibis, and wild cover- up stories chased each other around Hiccup's brain, each more feeble than the last. He couldn't see how they were going to get out of trouble this time. They were cornered. How could they have been so stupid as to forget the cloak? There was no reason on earth that Professor Gothi would accept for their being out of bed and creeping around the school in the dead of night, let alone being up the tallest astronomy tower, which was out-of-bounds except for classes. Add Norbert and the invisibility cloak, and they might as well be packing their bags already.

Had Hiccup thought that things couldn't have been worse? He was wrong. When Professor Gothi appeared, she was leading Drake.

"Hiccup!" Drake burst Out, the moment he saw the other two. "I was trying to find you to warn you, I heard Malfoy saying he was going to catch you, he said you had a drag -"

Hiccup shook his head violently to shut Drake up, but Professor Gothi had seen. She looked more likely to breathe fire than Norbert as she towered over the three of them.

"I would never have believed it of any of you. Mr. Mildew says you were up in the astronomy tower. It's one o'clock in the morning. Explain yourselves."

It was the first time Camicazi had ever failed to answer a teacher's question. She was staring at her slippers, as still as a statue.

"I think I've got a good idea of what's been going on," said Professor Gothi. "It doesn't take a genius to work it out. You fed Valence Malfoy some cock-and-bull story about a dragon, trying to get him out of bed and into trouble. I've already caught him. I suppose you think it's funny that Longbottom here heard the story and believed it, too?"

Hiccuo caught Drake's eye and tried to tell him without words that this wasn't true, because Drake was looking stunned and hurt. Poor, blundering Drake - Hiccup knew what it must have cost him to try and find them in the dark, to warn them.

"I'm disgusted," said Professor Gothi. "Four students out of bed in one night! I've never heard of such a thing before! You, Miss Granger, I thought you had more sense. As for you, Mr. Haddock, I thought Gryffindor meant more to you than this. All three of you will receive detentions -yes, you too, Mr. Longbottom, nothing gives you the right to walk around school at night, especially these days, it's very dangerous - and fifty points will be taken from Gryffindor."

"Fifty?" Hiccup gasped - they would lose the lead, the lead he'd won in the last Quidditch match.

"Fifty points each," said Professor Gothi, breathing heavily through her long, pointed nose.

"Professor - please

"You can't -"

"Don't tell me what I can and can't do, Haddock. Now get back to bed, all of you. I've never been more ashamed of Gryffindor students."

A hundred and fifty points lost. That put Gryffindor in last place. In one night, they'd ruined any chance Gryffindor had had for the house cup. Hiccup felt as though the bottom had dropped out of his stomach. How could they ever make up for this?

Hiccup didn't sleep all night. He could hear Drake sobbing into his pillow for what seemed like hours. Hiccup couldn't think of anything to say to comfort him. He knew Drake, like himself, was dreading the dawn. What would happen when the rest of Gryffindor found out what they'd done?

At first, Gryffindors passing the giant hourglasses that recorded the house points the next day thought there'd been a mistake. How could they suddenly have a hundred and fifty points fewer than yesterday? And then the story started to spread: Hiccup Haddock, the famous Hiccup Haddock, their hero of two Quidditch matches, had lo st them all those points, him and a couple of other stupid first years.

From being one of the most popular and admired people at the school, Hiccup was suddenly the most hated. Even Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs turned on him, because everyone had been longing to see Slytherin lose the house cup. Everywhere Hiccup went, people pointed and didn't trouble to lower their voices as they insulted him. Slytherins, on the other hand, clapped as he walked past them, whistling and cheering, "Thanks Haddock, we owe you one!"

Only Fishlegs stood by him.

"They'll all forget this in a few weeks. Tuffnut and Ruffnut have lost loads of points in all the time they've been here, and people still like them."

"They've never lost a hundred and fifty points in one go, though, have they?" said Hiccup miserably.

"Well - no," Fishlegs admitted.

It was a bit late to repair the damage, but Hiccup swore to himself not to meddle in things that weren't his business from now on. He'd had it with sneaking around and spying. He felt so ashamed of himself that he went to Dornet and offered to resign from the Quidditch team.

"Resign?" Dornet thundered. "What good'll that do? How are we going to get any points back if we can't win at Quidditch?"

But even Quidditch had lost its fun. The rest of the team wouldn't speak to Hiccup during practice, and if they had to speak about him, they called him "the Seeker."

Camicazi and Drake were suffering, too. They didn't have as bad a time as Hiccup, because they weren't as well-known, but nobody would speak to them, either. Camicazi had stopped drawing attention to herself in class, keeping her head down and working in silence.

Hiccup was almost glad that the exams weren't far away. All the studying he had to do kept his mind off his misery. He, Fishlegs, and Camicazi kept to themselves, working late into the night, trying to remember the ingredients in complicated potions, learn charms and spells by heart, memorize the dates of magical discoveries and goblin rebellions...

Then, about a week before the exams were due to start, Hiccup's new resolution not to interfere in anything that didn't concern him was put to an unexpected test. Walking back from the library on his own one afternoon, he heard somebody whimpering from a classroom up ahead. As he drew closer, he heard Quirrell's voice.

"No - no - not again, please -"

It sounded as though someone was threatening him. Hiccup moved closer.

"All right - all right -" he heard Quirrell sob.

Next second, Quirrell came hurrying out of the classroom straightening his turban. He was pale and looked as though he was about to cry. He strode out of sight; Hiccup didn't think Quirrell had even noticed him. He waited until Quirrell's footsteps had disappeared, then peered into the classroom. It was empty, but a door stood ajar at the other end. Hiccup was halfway toward it before he remembered what he'd promised himself about not meddling.

All the same, he'd have gambled twelve Sorcerer's Stones that Alvin had just left the room, and from what Hiccup had just heard, Alvin would be walking with a new spring in his step - Quirrell seemed to have given in at last.

Hiccup went back to the library, where Camicazi was testing Ron on Astronomy. Hiccup told them what he'd heard.

"Alvin's done it, then!" said Fishlegs. "If Quirrell's told him how to break his Anti-Dark Force spell -"

"There's still Fluffy, though," said Camicazi.

"Maybe Alvin's found out how to get past him without asking Mulch," said Fishlegs, looking up at the thousands of books surrounding them. "I bet there's a book somewhere in here telling you how to get past a giant three-headed dog. So what do we do, Hiccup?"

The light of adventure was kindling again in Fishlegs's eyes, but Camicazi answered before Hiccup could.

"Go to Dumbledore. That's what we should have done ages ago. If we try anything ourselves we'll be thrown out for sure."

"But we've got no proof!" said Hiccup. "Quirrell's too scared to back us up. Alvin's only got to say he doesn't know how the troll got in at Halloween and that he was nowhere near the third floor - who do you think they'll believe, him or us? It's not exactly a secret we hate him, Thor'll think we made it up to get him sacked. Mildew wouldn't help us if his life depended on it, he's too friendly with Alvin, and the more students get thrown out, the better, he'll think. And don't forget, we're not supposed to know about the Stone or Fluffy. That'll take a lot of explaining."

Camicazi looked convinced, but Fishlegs didn't.

"If we just do a bit of poking around -"

"No," said Hiccup flatly, "we've done enough poking around."

He pulled a map of Jupiter toward him and started to learn the names of its moons.

The following morning, notes were delivered to Hiccup, Camicazi, and Drake at the breakfast table. They were all the same:

Your detention will take place at eleven o'clock tonight. Meet Mr. Mildew in the entrance hall.

Professor Gothi

Hiccup had forgotten they still had detentions to do in the furor over the points they'd lost. He half expected Camicazi to complain that this was a whole night of studying lost, but she didn't say a word. Like Hiccup, she felt they deserved what they'd got.

At eleven o'clock that night, they said good-bye to Fishlegs in the common room and went down to the entrance hall with Drake. Mildew was already there - and so was Malfoy. Hiccup had also forgotten that Malfoy had gotten a detention, too.

"Follow me," said Mildew, lighting a lamp and leading them outside.

I bet you'll think twice about breaking a school rule again, won't you, eh?" he said, leering at them. "Oh yes... hard work and pain are the best teachers if you ask me... It's just a pity they let the old punishments die out... hang you by your wrists from the ceiling for a few days, I've got the chains still in my office, keep 'em well oiled in case they're ever needed... Right, off we go, and don't think of running off, now, it'll be worse for you if you do."

They marched off across the dark grounds. Drake kept sniffing. Hiccup wondered what their punishment was going to be. It must be something really horrible, or Mildew wouldn't be sounding so delighted.

The moon was bright, but clouds scudding across it kept throwing them into darkness. Ahead, Hiccup could see the lighted windows of Mulch's hut. Then they heard a distant shout.

"Is that you, Mildew? Hurry up, I want ter get started."

Hiccup's heart rose; if they were going to be working with Mulch it wouldn't be so bad. His relief must have showed in his -face, because Mildew said, "I suppose you think you'll be enjoying yourself with that oaf? Well, think again, boy - it's into the forest you're going and I'm much mistaken if you'll all come out in one piece."

At this, Drake let out a little moan, and Malfoy stopped dead in his tracks.

"The forest?" he repeated, and he didn't sound quite as cool as usual. "We can't go in there at night - there's all sorts of things in there- werewolves, I heard."

Drake clutched the sleeve of Hiccup's robe and made a choking noise.

"That's your problem, isn't it?" said Mildew, his voice cracking with glee. "Should've thought of them werewolves before you got in trouble, shouldn't you?"

Mulch came striding toward them out of the dark, Fang at his heel. He was carrying his large crossbow, and a quiver of arrows hung over his shoulder.

"Abou' time," he said. "I bin waitin' fer half an hour already. All right, Hiccup, Camicazi?"

"I shouldn't be too friendly to them, Mulch," said Mildew coldly, they're here to be punished, after all."

"That's why yer late, is it?" said Mulch, frowning at Mildew. "Bin lecturin' them, eh? 'Snot your place ter do that. Yeh've done yer bit, I'll take over from here."

"I'll be back at dawn," said Mildew, "for what's left of them," he added nastily, and he turned and started back toward the castle, his lamp bobbing away in the darkness.

Malfoy now turned to Mulch.

"I'm not going in that forest," he said, and Hiccup was pleased to hear the note of panic in his voice.

"Yeh are if yeh want ter stay at Hogwarts," said Mulch fiercely. "Yeh've done wrong an' now yehve got ter pay fer it."

"But this is servant stuff, it's not for students to do. I thought we'd be copying lines or something, if my father knew I was doing this, he'd

tell yer that's how it is at Hogwarts," Mulch growled. "Copyin' lines! What good's that ter anyone? Yeh'll do summat useful or Yeh'll get out. If yeh think yer father'd rather you were expelled, then get back off ter the castle an' pack. Go on"'

Malfoy didn't move. He looked at Mulch furiously, but then dropped his gaze.

"Right then," said Mulch, "now, listen carefully, 'cause it's dangerous what we're gonna do tonight, an' I don' want no one takin' risks. Follow me over here a moment."

He led them to the very edge of the forest. Holding his lamp up high, he pointed down a narrow, winding earth track that disappeared into the thick black trees. A light breeze lifted their hair as they looked into the forest.

"Look there," said Mulch, "see that stuff shinin' on the ground? Silvery stuff? That's unicorn blood. There's a unicorn in there bin hurt badly by summat. This is the second time in a week. I found one dead last Wednesday. We're gonna try an' find the poor thing. We might have ter put it out of its misery."

"And what if whatever hurt the unicorn finds us first?" said Malfoy, unable to keep the fear out of his voice.

"There's nothin' that lives in the forest that'll hurt yeh if yer with me or Fang," said Mulch. "An' keep ter the path. Right, now, we're gonna split inter two parties an' follow the trail in diff'rent directions. There's blood all over the place, it must've bin staggerin' around since last night at least."

"I want Fang," said Malfoy quickly, looking at Fang's long teeth.

"All right, but I warn yeh, he's a coward," said Mulch. " So me, Hiccup, an' Camicazi'll go one way an' Draco, Drake, an' Fang'll go the other. Now, if any of us finds the unicorn, we'll send up green sparks, right? Get yer wands out an' practice now - that's it - an' if anyone gets in trouble, send up red sparks, an' we'll all come an' find yeh - so, be careful - let's go."

The forest was black and silent. A little way into it they reached a fork in the earth path, and Hiccup, Camicazi, and Mulch took the left path while Malfoy, Drake, and Fang took the right.

They walked in silence, their eyes on the ground. Every now and then a ray of moonlight through the branches above lit a spot of silver-blue blood on the fallen leaves.

Hiccup saw that Mulch looked very worried.

"Could a werewolf be killing the unicorns?" Hiccup asked.

"Not fast enough," said Mulch. "It's not easy ter catch a unicorn, they're powerful magic creatures. I never knew one ter be hurt before."

They walked past a mossy tree stump. Hiccup could hear running water; there must be a stream somewhere close by. There were still spots of unicorn blood here and there along the winding path.

"You all right, Camicazi?" Mulch whispered. "Don' worry, it can't've gone far if it's this badly hurt, an' then we'll be able ter - GET BEHIND THAT TREE!"

Mulch seized Hiccup and Camicazi and hoisted them off the path behind a towering oak. He pulled out an arrow and fitted it into his crossbow, raising it, ready to fire. The three of them listened. Something was slithering over dead leaves nearby: it sounded like a cloak trailing along the ground. Mulch was squinting up the dark path, but after a few seconds, the sound faded away.

"I knew it, " he murmured. "There's summat in here that shouldn' be."

"A werewolf?" Hiccup suggested.

"That wasn' no werewolf an' it wasn' no unicorn, neither," said Mulch grimly. "Right, follow me, but careful, now."

They walked more slowly, ears straining for the faintest sound. Suddenly, in a clearing ahead, something definitely moved.

"Who's there?" Mulch called. "Show yerself - I'm armed!"

And into the clearing came - was it a man, or a horse? To the waist, a man, with red hair and beard, but below that was a horse's gleaming chestnut body with a long, reddish tail. Hiccup and Camicazi's jaws dropped.

"Oh, it's you, Ronan," said Mulch in relief. "How are yeh?"

He walked forward and shook the centaur's hand.

"Good evening to you, Mulch," said Ronan. He had a deep, sorrowful voice. "Were you going to shoot me?"

"Can't be too careful, Ronan," said Mulch, patting his crossbow. "There's summat bad loose in this forest. This is Hiccup Haddock an' Camicazi Granger, by the way. Students up at the school. An' this is Ronan, you two. He's a centaur."

"We'd noticed," said Camicazi faintly.

"Good evening," said Ronan. "Students, are you? And do you learn much, up at the school?"

"Erm -"

"A bit," said Camicazi timidly.

"A bit. Well, that's something." Ronan sighed. He flung back his head and stared at the sky. "Mars is bright tonight."

"Yeah," said Mulch, glancing up, too. "Listen, I'm glad we've run inter yeh, Ronan, 'cause there's a unicorn bin hurt - you seen anythin'?"

Ronan didn't answer immediately. He stared unblinkingly upward, then sighed again.

"Always the innocent are the first victims," he said. "So it has been for ages past, so it is now."

"Yeah," said Mulch, "but have yeh seen anythin', Ronan? Anythin' unusual?"

"Mars is bright tonight," Ronan repeated, while Mulch watched him impatiently. "Unusually bright."

"Yeah, but I was meanin' anythin' unusual a bit nearer home, said Mulch. "So yeh haven't noticed anythin' strange?"

Yet again, Ronan took a while to answer. At last, he said, "The forest hides many secrets."

A movement in the trees behind Ronan made Mulch raise his bow again, but it was only a second centaur, black-haired and -bodied and wilder-looking than Ronan.

"Hullo, Bane," said Mulch. "All right?"

"Good evening, Mulch, I hope you are well?"

"Well enough. Look, I've jus' bin askin' Ronan, you seen anythin' odd in here lately? There's a unicorn bin injured - would yeh know anythin' about it?"

Bane walked over to stand next to Ronan. He looked skyward.

"Mars is bright tonight," he said simply.

"We've heard," said Mulch grumpily. "Well, if either of you do see anythin', let me know, won't yeh? We'll be off, then."

Hiccup and Camicazi followed him out of the clearing, staring over their shoulders at Ronan and Bane until the trees blocked their view.

"Never," said Mulch irritably, "try an' get a straight answer out of a centaur. Ruddy stargazers. Not interested in anythin' closer'n the moon."

"Are there many of them in here?" asked Camicazi.

"Oh, a fair few... Keep themselves to themselves mostly, but they're good enough about turnin' up if ever I want a word. They're deep, mind, centaurs... they know things... jus' don' let on much."

"D'you think that was a centaur we heard earlier?" said Hiccup.

"Did that sound like hooves to you? Nah, if yeh ask me, that was what's bin killin' the unicorns - never heard anythin' like it before."

They walked on through the dense, dark trees. Hiccup kept looking nervously over his shoulder. He had the nasty feeling they were being watched. He was very glad they had Mulch and his crossbow with them. They had just passed a bend in the path when Camicazi grabbed Mulch's arm.

"Mulch! Look! Red sparks, the others are in trouble!"

"You two wait here!" Mulch shouted. "Stay on the path, I'll come back for yeh!"

They heard him crashing away through the undergrowth and stood looking at each other, very scared, until they couldn't hear anything but the rustling of leaves around them.

"You don't think they've been hurt, do you?" whispered Camicazi.

"I don't care if Malfoy has, but if something's got Drake... it's our fault he's here in the first place."

The minutes dragged by. Their ears seemed sharper than usual. Hiccup's seemed to be picking up every sigh of the wind, every cracking twig. What was going on? Where were the others?

At last, a great crunching noise announced Mulch's return. Malfoy, Drake, and Fang were with him. Mulch was fuming. Malfoy, it seemed, had sneaked up behind Drake and grabbed him as a joke. Drake had panicked and sent up the sparks.

"We'll be lucky ter catch anythin' now, with the racket you two were makin'. Right, we're changin' groups - Drake, you stay with me an' Camicazi, Hiccup, you go with Fang an' this idiot. I'm sorry," Mulch added in a whisper to Hiccup, "but he'll have a harder time frightenin' you, an' we've gotta get this done."

So Hiccup set off into the heart of the forest with Malfoy and Fang. They walked for nearly half an hour, deeper and deeper into the forest, until the path became almost impossible to follow because the trees were so thick. Hiccup thought the blood seemed to be getting thicker. There were splashes on the roots of a tree, as though the poor creature had been thrashing around in pain close by. Hiccup could see a clearing ahead, through the tangled branches of an ancient oak.

"Look -" he murmured, holding out his arm to stop Malfoy.

Something bright white was gleaming on the ground. They inched closer.

It was the unicorn all right, and it was dead. Hiccup had never seen anything so beautiful and sad. Its long, slender legs were stuck out at odd angles where it had fallen and its mane was spread pearly-white on the dark leaves.

Hiccup had taken one step toward it when a slithering sound made him freeze where he stood. A bush on the edge of the clearing quivered...Then, out of the shadows, a hooded figure came crawling across the ground like some stalking beast. Hiccup, Malfoy, and Fang stood transfixed. The cloaked figure reached the unicorn, lowered its head over the wound in the animal's side, and began to drink its blood.

"AAAAAAAAAARGH!"

Malfoy let out a terrible scream and bolted - so did Fang. The hooded figure raised its head and looked right at Hiccup - unicorn blood was dribbling down its front. It got to its feet and came swiftly toward Hiccup - he couldn't move for fear.

Then a pain like he'd never felt before pierced his head; it was as though his scar were on fire. Half blinded, he staggered backward. He heard hooves behind him, galloping, and something jumped clean over Hiccup, charging at the figure.

The pain in Hiccup's head was so bad he fell to his knees. It took a minute or two to pass. When he looked up, the figure had gone. A centaur was standing over him, not Ronan or Bane; this one looked younger; he had white-blond hair and a palomino body.

"Are you all right?" said the centaur, pulling Hiccup to his feet.

"Yes - thank you - what was that?"

The centaur didn't answer. He had astonishingly blue eyes, like pale sapphires. He looked carefully at Hiccup, his eyes lingering on the scar that stood out, livid, on Hiccup's forehead.

"You are the Haddock boy," he said. "You had better get back to Mulch. The forest is not safe at this time - especially for you. Can you ride? It will be quicker this way.

"My name is Firenze," he added, as he lowered himself on to his front legs so that Hiccup could clamber onto his back.

There was suddenly a sound of more galloping from the other side of the clearing. Ronan and Bane came bursting through the trees, their flanks heaving and sweaty.

"Firenze!" Bane thundered. "What are you doing? You have a human on your back! Have you no shame? Are you a common mule?"

"Do you realize who this is?" said Firenze. "This is the Haddock boy. The quicker he leaves this forest, the better."

"What have you been telling him?" growled Bane. "Remember, Firenze, we are sworn not to set ourselves against the heavens. Have we not read what is to come in the movements of the planets?"

Ronan pawed the ground nervously. "I'm sure Firenze thought he was acting for the best, " he said in his gloomy voice.

Bane kicked his back legs in anger.

"For the best! What is that to do with us? Centaurs are concerned with what has been foretold! It is not our business to run around like donkeys after stray humans in our forest!"

Firenze suddenly reared on to his hind legs in anger, so that Hiccup had to grab his shoulders to stay on.

"Do you not see that unicorn?" Firenze bellowed at Bane. "Do you not understand why it was killed? Or have the planets not let you in on that secret? I set myself against what is lurking in this forest, Bane, yes, with humans alongside me if I must."

And Firenze whisked around; with Hiccup clutching on as best he could, they plunged off into the trees, leaving Ronan and Bane behind them.

Hiccup didn't have a clue what was going on.

"Why's Bane so angry?" he asked. "What was that thing you saved me from, anyway?"

Firenze slowed to a walk, warned Hiccup to keep his head bowed in case of low-hanging branches, but did not answer Hiccup's question. They made their way through the trees in silence for so long that Hiccup thought Firenze didn't want to talk to him anymore. They were passing through a particularly dense patch of trees, however, when Firenze suddenly stopped.

"Hiccup Haddock, do you know what unicorn blood is used -for?"

"No," said Hiccup, startled by the odd question. "We've only used the horn and tail hair in Potions."

"That is because it is a monstrous thing, to slay a unicorn," said Firenze. "Only one who has nothing to lose, and everything to gain, would commit such a crime. The blood of a unicorn will keep you alive, even if you are an inch from death, but at a terrible price. You have slain something pure and defenseless to save yourself, and you will have but a half-life, a cursed life, from the moment the blood touches your lips."

Hiccup stared at the back of Firenze's head, which was dappled silver in the moonlight.

"But who'd be that desperate?" he wondered aloud. "If you're going to be cursed forever, deaths better, isn't it?"

"It is," Firenze agreed, "unless all you need is to stay alive long enough to drink something else - something that will bring you back to full strength and power - something that will mean you can never die. Mr. Haddock, do you know what is hidden in the school at this very moment?"

"The Sorcerer's Stone! Of course - the Elixir of Life! But I don't understand who -"

"Can you think of nobody who has waited many years to return to power, who has clung to life, awaiting their chance?"

It was as though an iron fist had clenched suddenly around Hiccup's heart. Over the rustling of the trees, he seemed to hear once more what Mulch had told him on the night they had met: "Some say he died. Codswallop, in my opinion. Dunno if he had enough human left in him to die."

"Do you mean," Hiccup croaked, "that was Dra-"

"Hiccup! Hiccup, are you all right?"

Camicazi was running toward them down the path, Mulch puffing along behind her.

"I'm fine," said Hiccup, hardly knowing what he was saying. "The unicorn's dead, Mulch, it's in that clearing back there."

"This is where I leave you," Firenze murmured as Mulch hurried off to examine the unicorn. "You are safe now."

Hiccup slid off his back.

"Good luck, Hiccup Haddock," said Firenze. "The planets have been read wrongly before now, even by centaurs. I hope this is one of those times."

He turned and cantered back into the depths of the forest, leaving Hiccup shivering behind him.

Fishlegs had fallen asleep in the dark common room, waiting for them to return. He shouted something about Quidditch fouls when Hiccup roughly shook him awake. In a matter of seconds, though, he was wide-eyed as Hiccup began to tell him and Camicazi what had happened in the forest.

Hiccup couldn't sit down. He paced up and down in front of the fire. He was still shaking.

"Alvin wants the stone for Drago... and Drago's waiting in the forest... and all this time we thought Alvin just wanted to get rich..."

"Stop saying the name!" said Fishlegs in a terrified whisper, as if he thought Drago could hear them.

Hiccup wasn't listening.

"Firenze saved me, but he shouldn't have done so... Bane was furious... he was talking about interfering with what the planets say is going to happen... They must show that Drago's coming back... Bane thinks Firenze should have let Drago kill me... I suppose that's written in the stars as well."

"Will you stop saying the name!" Fishlegs hissed.

"So all I've got to wait for now is Alvin to steal the Stone," Hiccup off... Well, I suppose Bane'll be happy."

Camicazi looked very frightened, but she had a word of comfort.

"Hiccup, everyone says Dumbledore's the only one You-Know-Who was ever afraid of With Thor around, You-Know-Who won't touch you. Anyway, who says the centaurs are right? It sounds like fortune-telling to me, and Professor Gothi says that's a very imprecise branch of magic."

The sky had turned light before they stopped talking. They went to bed exhausted, their throats sore. But the night's surprises weren't over.

When Hiccup pulled back his sheets, he found his invisibility cloak folded neatly underneath them. There was a note pinned to it:

Just in case.


	19. Through the Trapdoor

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Through the Trapdoor

In years to come, Hiccup would never quite remember how he had managed to get through his exams when he half expected Drago to come bursting through the door at any moment. Yet the days crept by, and there could be no doubt that Fluffy was still alive and well behind the locked door.

It was sweltering hot, especially in the large classroom where they did their written papers. They had been given special, new quills for the exams, which had been bewitched with an AntiCheating spell.

They had practical exams as well. Professor Flitwick called them one by one into his class to see if they could make a pineapple tapdance across a desk. Professor Gothi watched them turn a mouse into a snuffbox- points were given for how pretty the snuffbox was, but taken away if it had whiskers. Snape made them all nervous, breathing down their necks while they tried to remember how to make a Forgetfulness potion.

Hiccup did the best he could, trying to ignore the stabbing pains in his forehead, which had been bothering him ever since his trip into the forest. Drake thought Hiccup had a bad case of exam nerves because Hiccup couldn't sleep, but the truth was that Hiccup kept being woken by his old nightmare, except that it was now worse than ever because there was a hooded figure dripping blood in it.

Maybe it was because they hadn't seen what Hiccup had seen in the forest, or because they didn't have scars burning on their foreheads, but Fishlegs and Camicazi didn't seem as worried about the Stone as Hiccup. The idea of Drago certainly scared them, but he didn't keep visiting them in dreams, and they were so busy with their studying they didn't have much time to fret about what Snape or anyone else might be up to.

Their very last exam was History of Magic. One hour of answering questions about batty old wizards who'd invented selfstirring cauldrons and they'd be free, free for a whole wonderful week until their exam results came out. When the ghost of Professor Bucket told them to put down their quills and roll up their parchment, Hiccup couldn't help cheering with the rest.

"That was far easier than I thought it would be," said Camicazi as they joined the crowds flocking out onto the sunny grounds. "I needn't have learned about the 1637 Werewolf Code of Conduct or the uprising of Elfric the Eager."

Camicazi always liked to go through their exam papers afterward, but Fishlegs said this made him feel ill, so they wandered down to the lake and flopped under a tree. The Hofferson twins and Lee Jordan were tickling the tentacles of a giant squid, which was basking in the warm shallows.

"No more studying," Camicazi sighed happily, stretching out on the grass. "You could look more cheerful, Hiccup, we've got a week before we find out how badly we've done, there's no need to worry yet."

Hiccup was rubbing his forehead.

"I wish I knew what this means!" he burst out angrily. "My scar keeps hurting - it's happened before, but never as often as this."

"Go to Madam Pomfrey," Camicazi suggested.

"I'm not ill," said Hiccup. "I think it's a warning... it means danger's coming..."

Fishlegs couldn't get worked up, it was too hot.

"Hiccup, relax, Camicazi's right, the Stone's safe as long as Thor's around. Anyway, we've never had any proof Alvin found out how to get past Fluffy. He nearly had his leg ripped off once, he's not going to try it again in a hurry. And Drake will play Quidditch for England before Mulch lets Thor down."

Hiccup nodded, but he couldn't shake off a lurking feeling that there was something he'd forgotten to do, something important. When he tried to explain this, Camicazi said, "That's just the exams. I woke up last night and was halfway through my Transfiguration notes before I remembered we'd done that one."

Hiccup was quite sure the unsettled feeling didn't have anything to do with work, though. He watched an owl flutter toward the school across the bright blue sky, a note clamped in its mouth. Mulch was the only one who ever sent him letters. Mulch would never betray Thor. Mulch would never tell anyone how to get past Fluffy... never... but -

Hiccup suddenly jumped to his feet.

"Where're you going?" said Fishlegs sleepily.

"I've just thought of something," said Hiccup. He had turned white. "We've got to go and see Mulch, now."

"Why?" panted Camicazi, hurrying to keep up.

"Don't you think it's a bit odd," said Hiccup, scrambling up the grassy slope, "that what Mulch wants more than anything else is a dragon, and a stranger turns up who just happens to have an egg in his pocket? How many people wander around with dragon eggs if it's against wizard law? Lucky they found Mulch, don't you think? Why didn't I see it before?"

"What are you talking about?" said Fishlegs, but Hiccup, sprinting across the grounds toward the forest, didn't answer.

Mulch was sitting in an armchair outside his house; his trousers and sleeves were rolled up, and he was shelling peas into a large bowl.

"Hullo," he said, smiling. "Finished yer exams? Got time fer a drink?"

"Yes, please," said Fishlegs, but Hiccup cut him off.

"No, we're in a hurry. Mulch, I've got to ask you something. You know that night you won Norbert? What did the stranger you were playing cards with look like?"

"Dunno," said Mulch casually, "he wouldn' take his cloak off."

He saw the three of them look stunned and raised his eyebrows.

"It's not that unusual, yeh get a lot o' funny folk in the Hog's Head -that's the pub down in the village. Mighta bin a dragon dealer, mightn' he? I never saw his face, he kept his hood up." Hiccup sank down next to the bowl of peas.

"What did you talk to him about, Mulch? Did you mention Hogwarts at all?"

"Mighta come up," said Mulch, frowning as he tried to remember. "Yeah... he asked what I did, an' I told him I was gamekeeper here... He asked a bit about the sorta creatures I took after... so I told him... an' I said what I'd always really wanted was a dragon... an' then... I can' remember too well, 'cause he kept buyin' me drinks...Let's see... yeah, then he said he had the dragon egg an' we could play cards fer it if I wanted... but he had ter be sure I could handle it, he didn' want it ter go ter any old home... So I told him, after Fluffy, a dragon would be easy..."

"And did he - did he seem interested in Fluffy?" Hiccup asked, trying to keep his voice calm.

"Well - yeah - how many three-headed dogs d'yeh meet, even around Hogwarts? So I told him, Fluffy's a piece o' cake if yeh know how to calm him down, jus' play him a bit o' music an' he'll go straight off ter sleep -"

Mulch suddenly looked horrified.

"I shouldn'ta told yeh that!" he blurted out. "Forget I said it! Hey - where're yeh goin'?"

Hiccup, Fishlegs, and Camicazi didn't speak to each other at all until they came to a halt in the entrance hall, which seemed very cold and gloomy after the grounds.

"We've got to go to Thor," said Hiccup. "Mulch told that stranger how to get past Fluffy, and it was either Alvin or Drago under that cloak - it must've been easy, once he'd got Mulch drunk. I just hope Thor believes us. Firenze might back us up if Bane doesn't stop him. Where's Thor's office?"

They looked around, as if hoping to see a sign pointing them in the right direction. They had never been told where Thor lived, nor did they know anyone who had been sent to see him.

"We'll just have to -" Hiccup began, but a voice suddenly rang across the hall.

"What are you three doing inside?"

It was Professor Gothi, carrying a large pile of books.

"We want to see Professor Thor," said Camicazi, rather bravely, Hiccup and Fishlegs thought.

"See Professor Thor?" Professor Gothi repeated, as though this was a very fishy thing to want to do. "Why?"

Hiccup swallowed - now what?

"It's sort of secret," he said, but he wished at once he hadn't, because Professor Gothi's nostrils flared.

"Professor Thor left ten minutes ago," she said coldly. "He received an urgent owl from the Ministry of Magic and flew off for London at once."

"He's gone?" said Hiccup frantically. "Now?"

"Professor Thor is a very great wizard, Haddock, he has many demands on his time -

"But this is important."

"Something you have to say is more important than the Ministry of Magic, Haddock.

"Look," said Hiccup, throwing caution to the winds, "Professor - it's about the Sorcerer's tone -"

Whatever Professor Gothi had expected, it wasn't that. The books she was carrying tumbled out of her arms, but she didn't pick them up.

"How do you know -?" she spluttered.

"Professor, I think - I know - that Sn- that someone's going to try and steal the Stone. I've got to talk to Professor Thor."

She eyed him with a mixture of shock and suspicion.

"Professor Thor will be back tomorrow," she said finally. I don't know how you found out about the Stone, but rest assured, no one can possibly steal it, it's too well protected."

"But Professor -"

"Haddock, I know what I'm talking about," she said shortly. She bent down and gathered up the fallen books. I suggest you all go back outside and enjoy the sunshine."

But they didn't.

"It's tonight," said Hiccup, once he was sure Professor Gothi was out of earshot. "Alvin's going through the trapdoor tonight. He's found out everything he needs, and now he's got Thor out of the way. He sent that note, I bet the Ministry of Magic will get a real shock when Thor turns up."

"But what can we -"

Camicazi gasped. Hiccup and Fishlegs wheeled round.

Alvin was standing there.

"Good afternoon," he said smoothly.

They stared at him.

"You shouldn't be inside on a day like this," he said, with an odd, twisted smile.

"We were -" Hiccup began, without any idea what he was going to say.

"You want to be more careful," said Alvin. "Hanging around like this, people will think you're up to something. And Gryffindor really can't afford to lose any more points, can it?"

Hiccup flushed. They turned to go outside, but Alvin called them back.

"Be warned, Haddock - any more nighttime wanderings and I will personally make sure you are expelled. Good day to you."

He strode off in the direction of the staffroom.

Out on the stone steps, Hiccup turned to the others.

"Right, here's what we've got to do," he whispered urgently. "One of us has got to keep an eye on Snape - wait outside the staff room and follow him if he leaves it. Camicazi, you'd better do that."

"Why me?"

"It's obvious," said Fishlegs. "You can pretend to be waiting for Professor Flitwick, you know." He put on a high voice, "'Oh Professor Flitwick, I'm so worried, I think I got question fourteen b wrong...'"

"Oh, shut up," said Camicazi, but she agreed to go and watch out for Alvin.

"And we'd better stay outside the third-floor corridor," Hiccup told Fishlegs. "Come on."

But that part of the plan didn't work. No sooner had they reached the door separating Fluffy from the rest of the school than Professor Gothi turned up again and this time, she lost her temper.

"I suppose you think you're harder to get past than a pack of enchantments!" she stormed. "Enough of this nonsense! If I hear you 've come anywhere near here again, I'll take another fifty points from Gryffindor! Yes, Hofferson, from my own house!"

Hiccup and Fishlegs went back to the common room, Hiccup had just said, "At least Camicazi's on Alvin's tail," when the portrait of the Fat Lady swung open and Camicazi came in.

"I'm sorry, Hiccup!" she wailed. "Alvin came out and asked me what I was doing, so I said I was waiting for Flitwick, and Alvin went to get him, and I've only just got away, I don't know where Alvin went."

"Well, that's it then, isn't it?" Hiccup said.

The other two stared at him. He was pale and his eyes were glittering.

"I'm going out of here tonight and I'm going to try and get to the Stone first."

"You're mad!" said Fishlegs.

"You can't!" said Camicazi. "After what Gothi and Alvin have said? You'll be expelled!"

"SO WHAT" Hiccup shouted. "Don't you understand? If Alvin gets hold of the Stone, Drago's coming back! Haven't you heard what it was like when he was trying to take over? There won't be any Hogwarts to get expelled from! He'll flatten it, or turn it into a school for the Dark Arts! Losing points doesn't matter anymore, can't you see? D'you think he'll leave you and your families alone if Gryffindor wins the house cup? If I get caught before I can get to the Stone, well, I'll have to go back to the Jorgensons and wait for Drago to find me there, it's only dying a bit later than I would have, because I'm never going over to the Dark Side! I'm going through that trapdoor tonight and nothing you two say is going to stop me! Drago killed my parents, remember?"

He glared at them.

"You're right Hiccup," said Camicazi in a small voice.

"I'll use the invisibility cloak," said Hiccup. "It's just lucky I got it back."

"But will it cover all three of us?" said Fishlegs.

"All - all three of us?"

"Oh, come off it, you don't think we'd let you go alone?"

"Of course not," said Camicazi briskly. "How do you think you'd get to the Stone without us? I'd better go and took through my books, there might be something useful..."

"But if we get caught, you two will be expelled, too."

"Not if I can help it," said Camicazi grimly. "Flitwick told me in secret that I got a hundred and twelve percent on his exam. They're not throwing me out after that."

After dinner the three of them sat nervously apart in the common room. Nobody bothered them; none of the Gryffindors had anything to say to Hiccup any more, after all. This was the first night he hadn't been upset by it. Camicazi was skimming through all her notes, hoping to come across one of the enchantments they were about to try to break. Hiccup and Fishlegs didn't talk much. Both of them were thinking about what they were about to do.

Slowly, the room emptied as people drifted off to bed.

"Better get the cloak," Fishlegs muttered, as Lee Jordan finally left, stretching and yawning. Hiccup ran upstairs to their dark dormitory. He putted out the cloak and then his eyes fell on the flute Mulch had given him for Christmas. He pocketed it to use on Fluffy - he didn't feel much like singing.

He ran back down to the common room.

"We'd better put the cloak on here, and make sure it covers all three of us - if Mildew spots one of our feet wandering along on its own -"

"What are you doing?" said a voice from the corner of the room. Drake appeared from behind an armchair, clutching Trevor the toad, who looked as though he'd been making another bid for freedom.

"Nothing, Drake, nothing," said Hiccup, hurriedly putting the cloak behind his back.

Drake stared at their guilty faces.

"You're going out again," he said.

"No, no, no," said Camicazi. "No, we're not. Why don't you go to bed, Drake?"

Hiccup looked at the grandfather clock by the door. They couldn't afford to waste any more time, Alvin might even now be playing Fluffy to sleep.

"You can't go out," said Drake, "you'll be caught again. Gryffindor will be in even more trouble."

"You don't understand," said Hiccup, "this is important."

But Drake was clearly steeling himself to do something desperate.

I won't let you do it," he said, hurrying to stand in front of the portrait hole. "I'll - I'll fight you!"

"Drake, "Fishlegs exploded, "get away from that hole and don't be an idiot-"

"Don't you call me an idiot!" said Drake. I don't think you should be breaking any more rules! And you were the one who told me to stand up to people!"

"Yes, but not to us," said Fishlegs in exasperation. "Drake, you don't know what you're doing."

He took a step forward and Drake dropped Trevor the toad, who leapt out of sight.

"Go on then, try and hit me!" said Drake, raising his fists. "I'm ready!"

Hiccup turned to Camicazi.

"Do something," he said desperately.

Camicazi stepped forward.

"Drake," she said, "I'm really, really sorry about this."

She raised her wand.

"Petrificus Totalus!" she cried, pointing it at Drake.

Drake's arms snapped to his sides. His legs sprang together. His whole body rigid, he swayed where he stood and then fell flat on his face, stiff as a board.

Camicazi ran to turn him over. Drake's jaws were jammed together so he couldn't speak. Only his eyes were moving, looking at them in horror.

"What've you done to him?" Hiccup whispered.

"It's the full Body-Bind," said Camicazi miserably. "Oh, Drake, I'm so sorry."

"We had to, Drake, no time to explain," said Hiccup.

"You'll understand later, Drake," said Fishlegs as they stepped over him and pulled on the invisibility cloak.

But leaving Neville lying motionless on the floor didn't feel like a very good omen. In their nervous state, every statue's shadow looked like Mildew, every distant breath of wind sounded like Peeves swooping down on them.

At the foot of the first set of stairs, they spotted Mr. Fungus skulking near the top.

"Oh, let's kick him, just this once," Fishlegs whispered in Hiccup's ear, but Hiccup shook his head. As they climbed carefully around him, Mr. Fungus turned him lamplike eyes on them, but didn't do anything.

They didn't meet anyone else until they reached the staircase up to the third floor. Peeves was bobbing halfway up, loosening the carpet so that people would trip.

"Who's there?" he said suddenly as they climbed toward him. He narrowed his wicked black eyes. "Know you're there, even if I can't see you. Are you ghoulie or ghostie or wee student beastie?"

He rose up in the air and floated there, squinting at them.

"Should call Mildew, I should, if something's a-creeping around unseen."

Hiccup had a sudden idea.

"Peeves," he said, in a hoarse whisper, "the Bloody Baron has his own reasons for being invisible."

Peeves almost fell out of the air in shock. He caught himself in time and hovered about a foot off the stairs.

"So sorry, your bloodiness, Mr. Baron, Sir," he said greasily. "My mistake, my mistake - I didn't see you - of course I didn't, you're invisible - forgive old Peevsie his little joke, sir."

"I have business here, Peeves," croaked Hiccup. "Stay away from this place tonight."

"I will, sir, I most certainly will," said Peeves, rising up in the air again. "Hope your business goes well, Baron, I'll not bother you."

And he scooted off

"Brilliant, Hiccup!" whispered Fishlegs.

A few seconds later, they were there, outside the third-floor corridor- and the door was already ajar.

"Well, there you are," Hiccup said quietly, "Alvin's already got past Fluffy."

Seeing the open door somehow seemed to impress upon all three of them what was facing them. Underneath the cloak, Hiccup turned to the other two.

"If you want to go back, I won't blame you," he said. "You can take the cloak, I won't need it now."

"Don't be stupid," said Fishlegs.

"We're coming," said Camicazi.

Hiccup pushed the door open.

As the door creaked, low, rumbling growls met their ears. All three of the dog's noses sniffed madly in their direction, even though it couldn't see them.

"What's that at its feet?" Camicazi whispered.

"Looks like a harp," said Fishlegs. "Alvin must have left it there."

"It must wake up the moment you stop playing," said Hiccup. "Well, here goes..."

He put Mulch's flute to his lips and blew. It wasn't really a tune, but from the first note the beast's eyes began to droop. Hiccup hardly drew breath. Slowly, the dog's growls ceased - it tottered on its paws and fell to its knees, then it slumped to the ground, fast asleep.

"Keep playing," Fishlegs warned Hiccup as they slipped out of the cloak and crept toward the trapdoor. They could feel the dog's hot, smelly breath as they approached the giant heads.

"I think we'll be able to pull the door open," said Fishlegs, peering over the dog's back. "Want to go first, Camicazi?"

"No, I don't!"

"All right." Fishlegs gritted his teeth and stepped carefully over the dog's legs. He bent and pulled the ring of the trapdoor, which swung up and open.

"What can you see?" Camicazi said anxiously.

"Nothing - just black - there's no way of climbing down, we'll just have to drop."

Hiccup, who was still playing the flute, waved at Fishlegs to get his attention and pointed at himself.

"You want to go first? Are you sure?" said Fishlegs. "I don't know how deep this thing goes. Give the flute to Camicazi so she can keep him asleep."

Hiccup handed the flute over. In the few seconds' silence, the dog growled and twitched, but the moment Hermione began to play, it fell back into its deep sleep.

Hiccup climbed over it and looked down through the trapdoor. There was no sign of the bottom.

He lowered himself through the hole until he was hanging on by his fingertips. Then he looked up at Fishlegs and said, "If anything happens to me, don't follow. Go straight to the owlery and send Toothless to Thor, right?"

"Right," said Fishlegs.

"See you in a minute, I hope...

And Hiccup let go. Cold, damp air rushed past him as he fell down, down, down and –

FLUMP. With a funny, muffled sort of thump he landed on something soft. He sat up and felt around, his eyes not used to the gloom. It felt as though he was sitting on some sort of plant.

"It's okay!" he called up to the light the size of a postage stamp, which was the open trapdoor, "it's a soft landing, you can jump!"

Fishlegs followed right away. He landed, sprawled next to Hiccup.

"What's this stuff?" were his first words.

"Dunno, some sort of plant thing. I suppose it's here to break the fall. Come on, Camicazi!"

The distant music stopped. There was a loud bark from the dog, but Camicazi had already jumped. She landed on Hiccup's other side.

"We must be miles under the school , she said.

"Lucky this plant thing's here, really," said Fishlegs.

"Lucky!" shrieked Camicazi. "Look at you both!"

She leapt up and struggled toward a damp wall. She had to struggle because the moment she had landed, the plant had started to twist snakelike tendrils around her ankles. As for Hiccup and Fishlegs, their legs had already been bound tightly in long creepers without their noticing.

Camicazi had managed to free herself before the plant got a firm grip on her. Now she watched in horror as the two boys fought to pull the plant off them, but the more they strained against it, the tighter and faster the plant wound around them.

"Stop moving!" Camicazi ordered them. "I know what this is - it's Devil's Snare!"

"Oh, I'm so glad we know what it's called, that's a great help," snarled Fishlegs, leaning back, trying to stop the plant from curling around his neck.

"Shut up, I'm trying to remember how to kill it!" said Camicazi.

"Well, hurry up, I can't breathe!" Hiccup gasped, wrestling with it as it curled around his chest.

"Devil's Snare, Devil's Snare... what did Professor Sprout say? - it likes the dark and the damp

"So light a fire!" Hiccup choked.

"Yes - of course - but there's no wood!" Camicazi cried, wringing her hands.

"HAVE YOU GONE MAD?" Fishlegs bellowed. "ARE YOU A WITCH OR NOT?"

"Oh, right!" said Camicazi, and she whipped out her wand, waved it, muttered something, and sent a jet of the same bluebell flames she had used on Alvin at the plant. In a matter of seconds, the two boys felt it loosening its grip as it cringed away from the light and warmth. Wriggling and flailing, it unraveled itself from their bodies, and they were able to pull free.

"Lucky you pay attention in Herbology, Camicazi," said Hiccup as he joined her by the wall, wiping sweat off his face.

"Yeah," said Ron, "and lucky Hiccup doesn't lose his head in a crisis - 'there's no wood,' honestly."

"This way," said Hiccup, pointing down a stone passageway, which was the only way forward.

All they could hear apart from their footsteps was the gentle drip of water trickling down the walls. The passageway sloped downward, and Hiccup was reminded of Gringotts. With an unpleasant jolt of the heart, he remembered the dragons said to be guarding vaults in the wizards' bank. If they met a dragon, a fully-grown dragon - Norbert had been bad enough...

"Can you hear something?" Fishlegs whispered.

Hiccup listened. A soft rustling and clinking seemed to be coming from up ahead.

"Do you think it's a ghost?"

"I don't know... sounds like wings to me."

"There's light ahead - I can see something moving."

They reached the end of the passageway and saw before them a brilliantly lit chamber, its ceiling arching high above them. It was full of small, jewel-bright birds, fluttering and tumbling all around the room. On the opposite side of the chamber was a heavy wooden door.

"Do you think they'll attack us if we cross the room?" said Fishlegs.

"Probably," said Hiccup. "They don't look very vicious, but I suppose if they all swooped down at once... well, there's no other choice... I'll run."

He took a deep breath, covered his face with his arms, and sprinted across the room. He expected to feel sharp beaks and claws tearing at him any second, but nothing happened. He reached the door untouched. He pulled the handle, but it was locked.

The other two followed him. They tugged and heaved at the door, but it wouldn't budge, not even when Camicazi tried her Alohomora charm.

"Now what?" said Fishlegs.

"These birds... they can't be here just for decoration," said Camicazi.

They watched the birds soaring overhead, glittering - glittering?

"They're not birds!" Hiccup said suddenly. "They're keys! Winged keys -look carefully. So that must mean..." he looked around the chamber while the other two squinted up at the flock of keys. "... yes - look! Broomsticks! We've got to catch the key to the door!"

"But there are hundreds of them!"

Fishlegs examined the lock on the door.

"We're looking for a big, old-fashioned one - probably silver, like the handle."

They each seized a broomstick and kicked off into the air, soaring into the midst of the cloud of keys. They grabbed and snatched, but the bewitched keys darted and dived so quickly it was almost impossible to catch one.

Not for nothing, though, was Hiccup the youngest Seeker in a century. He had a knack for spotting things other people didn't. After a minute's weaving about through the whirl of rainbow feathers, he noticed a large silver key that had a bent wing, as if it had already been caught and stuffed roughly into the keyhole.

"That one!" he called to the others. "That big one - there - no, there- with bright blue wings - the feathers are all crumpled on one side."

Fishlegs went speeding in the direction that Hiccup was pointing, crashed into the ceiling, and nearly fell off his broom.

"We've got to close in on it!" Hiccup called, not taking his eyes off the key with the damaged wing. "Fishlegs, you come at it from above - Camicazi, stay below and stop it from going down and I'll try and catch it. Right, NOW!"

Fishlegs dived, Camicazi rocketed upward, the key dodged them both, and Hiccup streaked after it; it sped toward the wall, Hiccup leaned forward and with a nasty, crunching noise, pinned it against the stone with one hand. Fishlegs and Camicazi's cheers echoed around the high chamber.

They landed quickly, and Hiccup ran to the door, the key struggling in his hand. He rammed it into the lock and turned - it worked. The moment the lock had clicked open, the key took flight again, looking very battered now that it had been caught twice.

"Ready?" Hiccup asked the other two, his hand on the door handle. They nodded. He pulled the door open.

The next chamber was so dark they couldn't see anything at all. But as they stepped into it, light suddenly flooded the room to reveal an astonishing sight.

They were standing on the edge of a huge chessboard, behind the black chessmen, which were all taller than they were and carved from what looked like black stone. Facing them, way across the chamber, were the white pieces. Hiccup, Fishlegs and Camicazi shivered slightly - the towering white chessmen had no faces.

"Now what do we do?" Hiccup whispered.

"It's obvious, isn't it?" said Fishlegs. "We've got to play our way across the room."

Behind the white pieces they could see another door.

"How?" said Camicazi nervously.

"I think," said Fishlegs, "we're going to have to be chessmen."

He walked up to a black knight and put his hand out to touch the knight's horse. At once, the stone sprang to life. The horse pawed the ground and the knight turned his helmeted head to look down at Fishlegs.

"Do we - er - have to join you to get across?" The black knight nodded. Fishlegs turned to the other two.

"This needs thinking about he said. I suppose we've got to take the place of three of the black pieces..."

Hiccup and Camicazi stayed quiet, watching Ron think. Finally he said, "Now, don't be offended or anything, but neither of you are that good at chess -"

"We're not offended," said Hiccup quickly. "Just tell us what to do."

"Well, Hiccup, you take the place of that bishop, and Camicazi, YOU 90 next to him instead of that castle."

"What about you?"

"I'm going to be a knight," said Fishlegs.

The chessmen seemed to have been listening, because at these words a knight, a bishop, and a castle turned their backs on the white pieces and walked off the board, leaving three empty squares that Hiccup, Fishlegs, and Camicazi took.

"White always plays first in chess," said Fishlegs, peering across the board. "Yes... look..."

A white pawn had moved forward two squares.

Fishlegs started to direct the black pieces. They moved silently wherever he sent them. Hiccup's knees were trembling. What if they lost?

"Hiccup - move diagonally four squares to the right."

Their first real shock came when their other knight was taken. The white queen smashed him to the floor and dragged him off the board, where he lay quite still, facedown.

"Had to let that happen," said Fishlegs, looking shaken. "Leaves you free to take that bishop, Camicazi, go on."

Every time one of their men was lost, the white pieces showed no mercy. Soon there was a huddle of limp black players slumped along the wall. Twice, Fishlegs only just noticed in time that Hiccup and Camicazi were in danger. He himself darted around the board, taking almost as many white pieces as they had lost black ones.

"We're nearly there," he muttered suddenly. "Let me think let me think..."

The white queen turned her blank face toward him.

"Yes..." said Fishlegs softly, "It's the only way... I've got to be taken."

"NO" Hiccup and Camicazi shouted.

"That's chess!" snapped Fishlegs. "You've got to make some sacrifices! I take one step forward and she'll take me - that leaves you free to checkmate the king, Hiccup!"

"But -"

"Do you want to stop Alvin or not?"

"Fishlegs -"

"Look, if you don't hurry up, he'll already have the Stone!"

There was no alternative.

"Ready?" Fishlegs called, his face pale but determined. "Here I go - now, don't hang around once you've won."

He stepped forward, and the white queen pounced. She struck Fishlegs hard across the head with her stone arm, and he crashed to the floor -Camicazi screamed but stayed on her square - the white queen dragged Fishlegs to one side. He looked as if he'd been knocked out.

Shaking, Hiccup moved three spaces to the left.

The white king took off his crown and threw it at Hiccup's feet. They had won. The chessmen parted and bowed, leaving the door ahead clear. With one last desperate look back at Fishlegs, Hiccup and Camicazi charged through the door and up the next passageway.

"What if he's -?"

"He'll be all right," said Hiccup, trying to convince himself. "What do you reckon's next?"

"We've had Sprout's, that was the Devil's Snare; Flitwick must've put charms on the keys; Gothi transfigured the chessmen to make them alive; that leaves Quirrell's spell, and Alvin's."

They had reached another door.

"All right?" Hiccup whispered.

"Go on."

Hiccup pushed it open.

A disgusting smell filled their nostrils, making both of them pull their robes up over their noses. Eyes watering, they saw, flat on the floor in front of them, a troll even larger than the one they had tackled, out cold with a bloody lump on its head.

"I'm glad we didn't have to fight that one," Hiccup whispered as they stepped carefully over one of its massive legs. "Come on, I can't breathe."

He pulled open the next door, both of them hardly daring to look at what came next - but there was nothing very frightening in here, just a table with seven differently shaped bottles standing on it in a line.

"Alvin's," said Hiccup. "What do we have to do?"

They stepped over the threshold, and immediately a fire sprang up behind them in the doorway. It wasn't ordinary fire either; it was purple. At the same instant, black flames shot up in the doorway leading onward. They were trapped.

"Look!" camicazi seized a roll of paper lying next to the bottles. Hiccup looked over her shoulder to read it:

Danger lies before you, while safety lies behind,

Two of us will help you, which ever you would find,

One among us seven will let you move ahead,

Another will transport the drinker back instead,

Two among our number hold only nettle wine,

Three of us are killers, waiting bidden in line.

Choose, unless you wish to stay here forevermore,

To help you in your choice, we give you these clues four:

First, however slyly the poison tries to hide

You will always find some on nettle wine's left side;

Second, different are those who stand at either end,

But if you would move onward, neither is your friend;

Third, as you see clearly, all are different size,

Neither dwarf nor giant holds death in their insides;

Fourth, the second left and the second on the right

Are twins once you taste them, though different at first sight.

Camicazi let out a great sigh and Hiccup, amazed, saw that she was smiling, the very last thing he felt like doing.

"Brilliant," said Camicazi. "This isn't magic - it's logic - a puzzle. A lot of the greatest wizards haven't got an ounce of logic, they'd be stuck in here forever."

"But so will we, won't we?"

"Of course not," said Camicazi. "Everything we need is here on this paper. Seven bottles: three are poison; two are wine; one will get us safely through the black fire, and one will get us back through the purple."

"But how do we know which to drink?"

"Give me a minute."

Camicazi read the paper several times. Then she walked up and down the line of bottles, muttering to herself and pointing at them. At last, she clapped her hands.

"Got it," she said. "The smallest bottle will get us through the black fire - toward the Stone."

Hiccup looked at the tiny bottle.

"There's only enough there for one of us," he said. "That's hardly one swallow."

They looked at each other.

"Which one will get you back through the purple flames?"

Camicazi pointed at a rounded bottle at the right end of the line.

"You drink that," said Hiccup. "No, listen, get back and get Fishlegs. Grab brooms from the flying- key room, they'll get you out of the trapdoor and past Fluffy - go straight to the owlery and send Toothless to Thor, we need him. I might be able to hold Snape off for a while, but I'm no match for him, really."

"But Hiccup - what if You-Know-Who's with him?"

"Well - I was lucky once, wasn't I?" said Hiccup, pointing at his scar "I might get lucky again."

Camicazi's lip trembled, and she suddenly dashed at Hiccup and threw her arms around him.

"Camicazi!"

"Hiccup - you're a great wizard, you know."

"I'm not as good as you," said Hiccup, very embarrassed, as she let go of him.

"Me!" said Camicazi. "Books! And cleverness! There are more important things - friendship and bravery and - oh Harry - be careful!"

"You drink first," said Hiccup. "You are sure which is which, aren't you?"

"Positive," said Camicazi. She took a long drink from the round bottle at the end, and shuddered.

"It's not poison?" said Hiccup anxiously.

"No - but it's like ice."

"Quick, go, before it wears off."

"Good luck - take care."

"GO!"

Camicazi turned and walked straight through the purple fire.

Hiccup took a deep breath and picked up the smallest bottle. He turned to face the black flames.

"Here I come," he said, and he drained the little bottle in one gulp.

It was indeed as though ice was flooding his body. He put the bottle down and walked forward; he braced himself, saw the black flames licking his body, but couldn't feel them - for a moment he could see nothing but dark fire - then he was on the other side, in the last chamber.

There was already someone there - but it wasn't Alvin. It wasn't even Drago.


	20. The Man with Two Faces

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

The Man with Two Faces

It was Quirrell.

"You!" gasped Hiccup.

Quirrell smiled. His face wasn't twitching at all.

"Me," he said calmly. "I wondered whether I'd be meeting you here, Haddock."

"But I thought -Alvin-"

"Severus?" Quirrell laughed, and it wasn't his usual quivering treble, either, but cold and sharp. "Yes, Severus does seem the type, doesn't he? So useful to have him swooping around like an overgrown bat. Next to him, who would suspect p-p-poor, st-stuttering P-Professor Quirrell?"

Hiccup couldn't take it in. This couldn't be true, it couldn't.

"But Alvin tried to kill me!"

"No, no, no. I tried to kill you. Your friend Miss Granger accidentally knocked me over as she rushed to set fire to Alvin at that Quidditch match. She broke my eye contact with you. Another few seconds and I'd have got you off that broom. I'd have managed it before then if Alvin hadn't been muttering a countercurse, trying to save you."

"Alvin was trying to save me?"

"Of course," said Quirrell coolly. "\Why do you think he wanted to referee your next match? He was trying to make sure I didn't do it again. Funny, really... he needn't have bothered. I couldn't do anything with Thor watching. All the other teachers thought Alvin was trying to stop Gryffindor from winning, he did make himself unpopular...and what a waste of time, when after all that, I'm going to kill you tonight."

Quirrell snapped his fingers. Ropes sprang out of thin air and wrapped themselves tightly around Hiccup.

"You're too nosy to live, Haddock. Scurrying around the school on Halloween like that, for all I knew you'd seen me coming to look at what was guarding the Stone."

"You let the troll in?"

"Certainly. I have a special gift with trolls - you must have seen what I did to the one in the chamber back there? Unfortunately, while everyone else was running around looking for it, Alvin, who already suspected me, went straight to the third floor to head me off - and not only did my troll fail to beat you to death, that three-headed dog didn't even manage to bite Alvn's leg off properly.

"Now, wait quietly, Haddock. I need to examine this interesting mirror.

It was only then that Hiccup realized what was standing behind Quirrell. It was the Mirror of Erised.

"This mirror is the key to finding the Stone," Quirrell murmured, tapping his way around the frame. "Trust Thor to come up with something like this... but he's in London... I'll be far away by the time he gets back..."

All Hiccup could think of doing was to keep Quirrell talking and stop him from concentrating on the mirror.

"I saw you and Alvin in the forest -" he blurted out.

"Yes," said Quirrell idly, walking around the mirror to look at the back. "He was on to me by that time, trying to find out how far I'd got. He suspected me all along. Tried to frighten me - as though he could, when I had Lord Drago on my side..."

Quirrell came back out from behind the mirror and stared hungrily into it.

"I see the Stone... I'm presenting it to my master... but where is it?"

Hiccup struggled against the ropes binding him, but they didn't give. He had to keep Quirrell from giving his whole attention to the mirror.

"But Alvin always seemed to hate me so much."

"Oh, he does," said Quirrell casually, "heavens, yes. He was at Hogwarts with your father, didn't you know? They loathed each other. But he never wanted you dead."

"But I heard you a few days ago, sobbing - I thought Snape was threatening you..."

For the first time, a spasm of fear flitted across Quirrell's face.

"Sometimes," he said, "I find it hard to follow my master's instructions - he is a great wizard and I am weak -"

"You mean he was there in the classroom with you?" Hiccup gasped.

"He is with me wherever I go," said Quirrell quietly. "I met him when I traveled around the world. A foolish young man I was then, full of ridiculous ideas about good and evil. Lord Drago showed me how wrong I was. There is no good and evil, there is only power, and those too weak to seek it... Since then, I have served him faithfully, although I have let him down many times. He has had to be very hard on me." Quirrell shivered suddenly. "He does not forgive mistakes easily. When I failed to steal the stone from Gringotts, he was most displeased. He punished me... decided he would have to keep a closer watch on me..."

Quirrell's voice trailed away. Hiccup was remembering his trip to Diagon Alley -how could he have been so stupid? He'd seen Quirrell there that very day, shaken hands with him in the Leaky Cauldron.

Quirrell cursed under his breath.

"I don't understand... is the Stone inside the mirror? Should I break it?"

Hiccup's mind was racing.

What I want more than anything else in the world at the moment, he thought, is to find the Stone before Quirrell does. So if I look in the mirror, I should see myseff finding it - which means I'll see where it's hidden! But how can I look without Quirrell realizing what I'm up to?

He tried to edge to the left, to get in front of the glass without Quirrell noticing, but the ropes around his ankles were too tight: he tripped and fell over. Quirrell ignored him. He was still talking to himself.

"What does this mirror do? How does it work? Help me, Master!"

And to Hiccup's horror, a voice answered, and the voice seemed to come from Quirrell himself

"Use the boy... Use the boy..."

Quirrell rounded on Hiccup.

"Yes -Haddock- come here."

He clapped his hands once, and the ropes binding Hiccup fell off. Hiccup got slowly to his feet.

"Come here," Quirrell repeated. "Look in the mirror and tell me what you see."

Hiccup walked toward him.

I must lie, he thought desperately. I must look and lie about what I see, that's all.

Quirrell moved close behind him. Hiccup breathed in the funny smell that seemed to come from Quirrell's turban. He closed his eyes, stepped in front of the mirror, and opened them again.

He saw his reflection, pale and scared-looking at first. But a moment later, the reflection smiled at him. It put its hand into its pocket and pulled out a blood-red stone. It winked and put the Stone back in its pocket - and as it did so, Hiccup felt something heavy drop into his real pocket. Somehow - incredibly - he'd gotten the Stone.

"Well?" said Quirrell impatiently. "What do you see?"

Hiccup screwed up his courage.

"I see myself shaking hands with Dumbledore," he invented. "I - I've won the house cup for Gryffindor."

Quirrell cursed again.

"Get out of the way," he said. As Hiccup moved aside, he felt the Sorcerer's Stone against his leg. Dare he make a break for it?

But he hadn't walked five paces before a high voice spoke, though Quirrell wasn't moving his lips.

"He lies... He lies..."

"Haddock, come back here!" Quirrell shouted. "Tell me the truth! What did you just see?"

The high voice spoke again.

"Let me speak to him... face-to-face..."

"Master, you are not strong enough!"

"I have strength enough... for this..."

Hiccup felt as if Devil's Snare was rooting him to the spot. He couldn't move a muscle. Petrified, he watched as Quirrell reached up and began to unwrap his turban. What was going on? The turban fell away. Quirrell's head looked strangely small without it. Then he turned slowly on the spot.

Hiccup would have screamed, but he couldn't make a sound. Where there should have been a back to Quirrell's head, there was a face, the most terrible face Hiccup had ever seen. It was chalk white with glaring red eyes and slits for nostrils, like a snake.

"Hiccup Haddock..." it whispered.

Hiccup tried to take a step backward but his legs wouldn't move.

"See what I have become?" the face said. "Mere shadow and vapor ... I have form only when I can share another's body... but there have always been those willing to let me into their hearts and minds... Unicorn blood has strengthened me, these past weeks... you saw faithful Quirrell drinking it for me in the forest... and once I have the Elixir of Life, I will be able to create a body of my own... Now... why don't you give me that Stone in your pocket?"

So he knew. The feeling suddenly surged back into Hiccup's legs. He stumbled backward.

"Don't be a fool," snarled the face. "Better save your own life and join me... or you'll meet the same end as your parents... They died begging me for mercy..."

"LIAR!" Hiccup shouted suddenly.

Quirrell was walking backward at him, so that Drago could still see him. The evil face was now smiling.

"How touching..." it hissed. "I always value bravery... Yes, boy, your parents were brave... I killed your father first; and he put up a courageous fight... but your mother needn't have died... she was trying to protect you... Now give me the Stone, unless you want her to have died in vain."

"NEVER!"

Hiccup sprang toward the flame door, but Drago screamed "SEIZE HIM!" and the next second, Hiccup felt Quirrell's hand close on his wrist. At once, a needle-sharp pain seared across Hiccup's scar; his head felt as though it was about to split in two; he yelled, struggling with all his might, and to his surprise, Quirrell let go of him. The pain in his head lessened - he looked around wildly to see where Quirrell had gone, and saw him hunched in pain, looking at his fingers - they were blistering before his eyes.

"Seize him! SEIZE HIM!" shrieked Drago again, and Quirrell lunged, knocking Hiccup clean off his feet' landing on top of him, both hands around Hiccup's neck - Hiccup's scar was almost blinding him with pain, yet he could see Quirrell howling in agony.

"Master, I cannot hold him - my hands - my hands!"

And Quirrell, though pinning Hiccup to the ground with his knees, let go of his neck and stared, bewildered, at his own palms - Hiccup could see they looked burned, raw, red, and shiny.

"Then kill him, fool, and be done!" screeched Drago.

Quirrell raised his hand to perform a deadly curse, but Hiccup, by instinct, reached up and grabbed Quirrell's face -

"AAAARGH!"

Quirrell rolled off him, his face blistering, too, and then Hiccup knew: Quirrell couldn't touch his bare skin, not without suffering terrible pain - his only chance was to keep hold of Quirrell, keep him in enough pain to stop him from doing a curse.

Hiccup jumped to his feet, caught Quirrell by the arm, and hung on as tight as he could. Quirrell screamed and tried to throw Hiccup off - the pain in Hiccup's head was building - he couldn't see - he could only hear Quirrell's terrible shrieks and Drago's yells of, "KILL HIM! KILL HIM!" and other voices, maybe in Hiccup's own head, crying, "Hiccup! Hiccup!"

He felt Quirrell's arm wrenched from his grasp, knew all was lost, and fell into blackness, down ... down... down...

Something gold was glinting just above him. The Snitch! He tried to catch it, but his arms were too heavy.

He blinked. It wasn't the Snitch at all. It was a pair of glasses. How strange.

He blinked again. The smiling face of Odin Thor swam into view above him.

"Good afternoon, Hiccup," said Thor.

Hiccup stared at him. Then he remembered: "Sir! The Stone! It was Quirrell! He's got the Stone! Sir, quick -"

"Calm yourself, dear boy, you are a little behind the times," said Thor. "Quirrell does not have the Stone."

"Then who does? Sir, I -"

"Hiccup, please relax, or Madam Pomfrey will have me thrown out. Hiccup swallowed and looked around him. He realized he must be in the hospital wing. He was lying in a bed with white linen sheets, and next to him was a table piled high with what looked like half the candy shop.

"Tokens from your friends and admirers," said Thor, beaming. "What happened down in the dungeons between you and Professor Quirrell is a complete secret, so, naturally, the whole school knows. I believe your friends Mister Tuffnut and Miss Ruffnut Hofferson were responsible for trying to send you a toilet seat. No doubt they thought it would amuse you. Madam Pomfrey, however, felt it might not be very hygienic, and confiscated it."

"How long have I been in here?"

"Three days. Mr. Fishlegs Hofferson and Miss Granger will be most relieved you have come round, they have been extremely worried."

"But sir, the Stone

I see you are not to be distracted. Very well, the Stone. Professor Quirrell did not manage to take it from you. I arrived in time to prevent that, although you were doing very well on your own, I must say.

"You got there? You got Camicazi's owl?"

"We must have crossed in midair. No sooner had I reached London than it became clear to me that the place I should be was the one I had just left. I arrived just in time to pull Quirrell off you."

"It was you."

"I feared I might be too late."

"You nearly were, I couldn't have kept him off the Stone much longer -"

"Not the Stone, boy, you - the effort involved nearly killed you. For one terrible moment there, I was afraid it had. As for the Stone, it has been destroyed."

"Destroyed?" said Hiccup blankly. "But your friend - Nicolas Flamel -"

"Oh, you know about Nicolas?" said Thor, sounding quite delighted.

"You did do the thing properly, didn't you? Well, Nicolas and I have had a little chat, and agreed it's all for the best."

"But that means he and his wife will die, won't they?"

"They have enough Elixir stored to set their affairs in order and then, yes, they will die."

Thor smiled at the look of amazement on Hiccup's face.

"To one as young as you, I'm sure it seems incredible, but to Nicolas and Perenelle, it really is like going to bed after a very, very long day. After all, to the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure. You know, the Stone was really not such a wonderful thing. As much money and life as you could want! The two things most human beings would choose above all - the trouble is, humans do have a knack of choosing precisely those things that are worst for them."

Hiccup lay there, lost for words. Thor hummed a little and smiled at the ceiling.

"Sir?" said Hiccup. "I've been thinking... sir - even if the Stone's gone, Dra-, I mean, You-Know- Who -"

"Call him Drago, Hiccup. Always use the proper name for things. Fear of a name increases fear of the thing itself."

"Yes, sir. Well, Drago's going to try other ways of coming back, isn't he? I mean, he hasn't gone, has he?"

"No, Hiccup, he has not. He is still out there somewhere, perhaps looking for another body to share... not being truly alive, he cannot be killed. He left Quirrell to die; he shows just as little mercy to his followers as his enemies. Nevertheless, Hiccup, while you may only have delayed his return to power, it will merely take someone else who is prepared to fight what seems a losing battle next time - and if he is delayed again, and again, why, he may never return to power."

Hiccup nodded, but stopped quickly, because it made his head hurt. Then he said, "Sir, there are some other things I'd like to know, if you can tell me... things I want to know the truth about..."

"The truth." Thor sighed. "It is a beautiful and terrible thing, and should therefore be treated with great caution. However, I shall answer your questions unless I have a very good reason not to, in which case I beg you'll forgive me. I shall not, of course, lie."

"Well... Drago said that he only killed my mother because she tried to stop him from killing me. But why would he want to kill me in the first place?"

Thor sighed very deeply this time.

"Alas, the first thing you ask me, I cannot tell you. Not today. Not now. You will know, one day... put it from your mind for now, Hiccup. When you are older... I know you hate to hear this... when you are ready, you will know."

And Hiccup knew it would be no good to argue.

"But why couldn't Quirrell touch me?"

"Your mother died to save you. If there is one thing Drago cannot understand, it is love. He didn't realize that love as powerful as your mother's for you leaves its own mark. Not a scar, no visible sign... to have been loved so deeply, even though the person who loved us is gone, will give us some protection forever. It is in your very skin. Quirrell, full of hatred, greed, and ambition, sharing his soul with Drago, could not touch you for this reason. It was agony to touch a person marked by something so good."

Thor now became very interested in a bird out on the windowsill, which gave Hiccup time to dry his eyes on the sheet. When he had found his voice again, Hiccup said, "And the invisibility cloak - do you know who sent it to me?"

"Ah - your father happened to leave it in my possession, and I thought you might like it." Thor's eyes twinkled. "Useful things... your father used it mainly for sneaking off to the kitchens to steal food when he was here."

"And there's something else..."

"Fire away."

"Quirrell said Alvin-"

"Professor Alvin, Hiccup."

"Yes, him - Quirrell said he hates me because he hated my father. Is that true?"

"Well, they did rather detest each other. Not unlike yourself and Mr. Malfoy. And then, your father did something Alvin could never forgive."

"What?"

"He saved his life."

"What?"

"Yes..." said Thor dreamily. "Funny, the way people's minds work, isn't it? Professor Alvin couldn't bear being in your father's debt...I do believe he worked so hard to protect you this year because he felt that would make him and your father even. Then he could go back to hating your father's memory in peace..."

Hiccup tried to understand this but it made his head pound, so he stopped.

"And sir, there's one more thing..."

"Just the one?"

"How did I get the Stone out of the mirror?"

"Ah, now, I'm glad you asked me that. It was one of my more brilliant ideas, and between you and me, that's saying something. You see, only one who wanted to find the Stone - find it, but not use it - would be able to get it, otherwise they'd just see themselves making gold or drinking Elixir of Life. My brain surprises even me sometimes... Now, enough questions. I suggest you make a start on these sweets. Ah! Bettie Bott's Every Flavor Beans! I was unfortunate enough in my youth to come across a vomit flavored one, and since then I'm afraid I've rather lost my liking for them - but I think I'll be safe with a nice toffee, don't you?"

He smiled and popped the golden-brown bean into his mouth. Then he choked and said, "Alas! Ear wax!"

Madam Pomfrey, the nurse, was a nice woman, but very strict.

"Just five minutes," Hiccup pleaded.

"Absolutely not."

"You let Professor Thor in..."

"Well, of course, that was the headmaster, quite different. You need rest."

"I am resting, look, lying down and everything. Oh, go on, Madam Pomfrey..."

"Oh, very well," she said. "But five minutes only."

And she let Fishlegs and Camicazi in.

"Hiccup!"

Camicazi looked ready to fling her arms around him again, but Hicccup was glad she held herself in as his head was still very sore.

"Oh, Hiccup, we were sure you were going to - Thor was so worried-"

"The whole school's talking about it," said Fishlegs. "What really happened?"

It was one of those rare occasions when the true story is even more strange and exciting than the wild rumors. Hiccup told them everything: Quirrell; the mirror; the Stone; and Drago. Fishlegs and Camicazi were a very good audience; they gasped in all the right places, and when Hiccup told them what was under Quirrell's turban, Camicazi screamed out loud.

"So the Stone's gone?" said Fishlegs finally. "Flamel's just going to die?"

"That's what I said, but Thor thinks that - what was it? - 'to the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure.

"I always said he was off his rocker," said Fishlegs, looking quite impressed at how crazy his hero was.

"So what happened to you two?" said Hiccup.

"Well, I got back all right," said Camicazi. "I brought Fishlegs round -that took a while - and we were dashing up to the owlery to contact Thor when we met him in the entrance hall - he already knew - he just said, 'Hiccup's gone after him, hasn't he?' and hurtled off to the third floor."

"D'you think he meant you to do it?" said Fishlegs. "Sending you your father's cloak and everything?"

"Well, " Camicazi exploded, "if he did - I mean to say that's terrible - you could have been killed."

"No, it isn't," said Hiccup thoughtfully. "He's a funny man, Thor. I think he sort of wanted to give me a chance. I think he knows more or less everything that goes on here, you know. I reckon he had a pretty good idea we were going to try, and instead of stopping us, he just taught us enough to help. I don't think it was an accident he let me find out how the mirror worked. It's almost like he thought I had the right to face Drago if I could..."

"Yeah, Thor's off his rocker, all right," said Fishlegs proudly. "Listen, you've got to be up for the end-of-year feast tomorrow. The points are all in and Slytherin won, of course - you missed the last Quidditch match, we were steamrollered by Ravenclaw without you - but the food'll be good."

At that moment, Madam Pomfrey bustled over.

"You've had nearly fifteen minutes, now OUT" she said firmly.

After a good night's sleep, Hiccup felt nearly back to normal.

"I want to go to the feast," he told Madam Pomfrey as she straightened his many candy boxes. I can, can't I?"

"Professor Thor says you are to be allowed to go," she said stiffily, as though in her opinion Professor Thor didn't realize how risky feasts could be. "And you have another visitor."

"Oh, good," said Hiccup. "Who is it?"

Mulch sidled through the door as he spoke. As usual when he was indoors, Mulch looked too big to be allowed. He sat down next to Hiccup, took one look at him, and burst into tears.

"It's - all - my - ruddy - fault!" he sobbed, his face in his hands. I told the evil git how ter get past Fluffy! I told him! It was the only thing he didn't know, an' I told him! Yeh could've died! All fer a dragon egg! I'll never drink again! I should be chucked out an' made ter live as a Muggle!"

"Mulch!" said Hiccup, shocked to see Mulch shaking with grief and remorse, great tears leaking down into his beard. "Mulch, he'd have found out somehow, this is Drago we're talking about, he'd have found out even if you hadn't told him."

"Yeh could've died!" sobbed Mulch. "An' don' say the name!"

"DRAGO!" Hiccup bellowed, and Mulch was so shocked, he stopped crying. "I've met him and I'm calling him by his name. Please cheer up, Mulch, we saved the Stone, it's gone, he can't use it. Have a Chocolate Frog, I've got loads..."

Mulch wiped his nose on the back of his hand and said, "That reminds me. I've got yeh a present."

"It's not a stoat sandwich, is it?" said Hiccup anxiously, and at last Mulch gave a weak chuckle.

"Nah. Thor gave me the day off yesterday ter fix it. 'Course, he shoulda sacked me instead - anyway, got yeh this..."

It seemed to be a handsome, leather-covered book. Hiccup opened it curiously. It was full of wizard photographs. Smiling and waving at him from every page were his mother and father.

"Sent owls off ter all yer parents' old school friends, askin' fer photos... knew yeh didn' have any... d'yeh like it?"

Hiccup couldn't speak, but Mulch understood.

Hiccup made his way down to the end-of-year feast alone that night. He had been held up by Madam Pomfrey's fussing about, insisting on giving him one last checkup, so the Great Hall was already full. It was decked out in the Slytherin colors of green and silver to celebrate Slytherin's winning the house cup for the seventh year in a row. A huge banner showing the Slytherin serpent covered the wall behind the High Table.

When Hiccup walked in there was a sudden hush, and then everybody started talking loudly at once. He slipped into a seat between Fishlegs and Camicazi at the Gryffindor table and tried to ignore the fact that people were standing up to look at him.

Fortunately, Thor arrived moments later. The babble died away.

"Another year gone!" Thor said cheerfully. "And I must trouble you with an old man's wheezing waffle before we sink our teeth into our delicious feast. What a year it has been! Hopefully your heads are all a little fuller than they were... you have the whole summer ahead to get them nice and empty before next year starts...

"Now, as I understand it, the house cup here needs awarding, and the points stand thus: In fourth place, Gryffindor, with three hundred and twelve points; in third, Hufflepuff, with three hundred and fifty-two; Ravenclaw has four hundred and twenty-six and Slytherin, four hundred and seventy- two."

A storm of cheering and stamping broke out from the Slytherin table. Hiccup could see Valence Malfoy banging his goblet on the table. It was a sickening sight.

"Yes, Yes, well done, Slytherin," said Thor. "However, recent events must be taken into account."

The room went very still. The Slytherins' smiles faded a little.

"Ahem," said Thor. "I have a few last-minute points to dish out. Let me see. Yes...

"First - to Mr. Fishlegs Hofferson..."

Fishlegs went purple in the face; he looked like a radish with a bad sunburn.

"...for the best-played game of chess Hogwarts has seen in many years, I award Gryffindor house fifty points."

Gryffindor cheers nearly raised the bewitched ceiling; the stars overhead seemed to quiver. Trygve could be heard telling the other prefects, "My brother, you know! My youngest brother! Got past Gothi's giant chess set!"

At last there was silence again.

"Second - to Miss Camicazi Granger... for the use of cool logic in the face of fire, I award Gryffindor house fifty points."

Camicazi buried her face in her arms; Hiccup strongly suspected she had burst into tears. Gryffindors up and down the table were beside themselves - they were a hundred points up.

"Third - to Mr. Hiccup Haddock..." said Thor. The room went deadly quiet for pure nerve and outstanding courage, I award Gryffindor house sixty points."

The din was deafening. Those who could add up while yelling themselves hoarse knew that Gryffindor now had four hundred and seventy-two points- exactly the same as Slytherin. They had tied for the house cup - if only Thor had given Hiccup just one more point.

Thor raised his hand. The room gradually fell silent.

"There are all kinds of courage," said Thor, smiling. "It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to our enemies, but just as much to stand up to our friends. I therefore award ten points to Mr. Drake Longbottom."

Someone standing outside the Great Hall might well have thought some sort of explosion had taken place, so loud was the noise that erupted from the Gryffindor table. Hiccup, Fishlegs, and Camicazi stood up to yell and cheer as Drake, white with shock, disappeared under a pile of people hugging him. He had never won so much as a point for Gryffindor before. Hiccup, still cheering, nudged Fishlegs in the ribs and pointed at Malfoy, who couldn't have looked more stunned and horrified if he'd just had the Body-Bind Curse put on him.

"Which means, Thor called over the storm of applause, for even Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff were celebrating the downfall of Slytherin, "we need a little change of decoration."

He clapped his hands. In an instant, the green hangings became scarlet and the silver became gold; the huge Slytherin serpent vanished and a towering Gryffindor lion took its place. Alvin was shaking Professor Gothi's hand, with a horrible, forced smile. He caught Hiccup's eye and Hiccup knew at once that Alvin's feelings toward him hadn't changed one jot. This didn't worry Hiccup. It seemed as though life would be back to normal next year, or as normal as it ever was at Hogwarts.

It was the best evening of Hiccup's life, better than winning at Quidditch, or Christmas, or knocking out mountain trolls... he would never, ever forget tonight.

Hiccup had almost forgotten that the exam results were still to come, but come they did. To their great surprise, both he and Fishlegs passed with good marks; Camicazi, of course, had the best grades of the first years. Even Drake scraped through, his good Herbology mark making up for his abysmal Potions one. They had hoped that Gisle, who was almost as stupid as he was mean, might be thrown out, but he had passed, too. It was a shame, but as Fishlegs said, you couldn't have everything in life.

And suddenly, their wardrobes were empty, their trunks were packed, Drake's toad was found lurking in a corner of the toilets; notes were handed out to all students, warning them not to use magic over the holidays ("I always hope they'll forget to give us these," said Tuffnut Hofferson sadly); Mulch was there to take them down to the fleet of boats that sailed across the lake; they were boarding the Hogwarts Express; talking and laughing as the countryside became greener and tidier; eating Bettie Bott's Every Flavor Beans as they sped past Muggle towns; pulling off their wizard robes and putting on jackets and coats; pulling into platform nine and three-quarters at King's Cross Station.

It took quite a while for them all to get off the platform. A wizened old guard was up by the ticket barrier, letting them go through the gate in twos and threes so they didn't attract attention by all bursting out of a solid wall at once and alarming the Muggles.

"You must come and stay this summer," said Fishlegs, "both of you - I'll send you an owl."

"Thanks," said Hiccup, "I'll need something to look forward to."

People jostled them as they moved forward toward the gateway back to the Muggle world. Some of them called:

"Bye, Hiccup!"

"See you, Haddock!"

"Still famous," said Fishlegs, grinning at him.

"Not where I'm going, I promise you," said Hiccup.

He, Fishlegs, and Camicazi passed through the gateway together.

"There he is, Mom, there he is, look!"

It was Astrid Hofferson, Fishlegs' younger sister, but she wasn't pointing at Fishlegs.

"Hiccup Haddock!" she squealed. "Look, Mom! I can see

"Be quiet, Astrid, and it's rude to point."

Mrs. Hofferson smiled down at them.

"Busy year?" she said.

"Very," said Hiccup. "Thanks for the fudge and the sweater, Mrs. Hofferson."

"Oh, it was nothing, dear."

"Ready, are you?"

It was Uncle Spitelout, still purple-faced, still mustached, still looking furious at the nerve of Hiccup, carrying an owl in a cage in a station full of ordinary people. Behind him stood Aunt Freda and Snotlout, looking terrified at the very sight of Hiccup.

"You must be Hiccup's family!" said Mrs. Hofferson.

"In a manner of speaking," said Uncle Spitelout. "Hurry up, boy, we haven't got all day." He walked away.

Hiccup hung back for a last word with Fishlegs and Camicazi.

"See you over the summer, then."

"Hope you have - er - a good holiday," said Camicazi, looking uncertainly after Uncle Spitelout, shocked that anyone could be so unpleasant.

"Oh, I will," said Hiccup, and they were surprised at the grin that was spreading over his face. "They don't know we're not allowed to use magic at home. I'm going to have a lot of fun with Snotlout this summer..."

**If you viewers want me to make "Hiccup Haddock and the Chamber of Secrets" private message me yes and if you want me to switch Gobber as Hagrid say something**


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